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THE    LIFE 
OF 

A    SPORTSMAN 


By    NIMROD 

WITH   THIRTY-SIX   COLOURED    ILLUSTRATIONS 
BY    HENRY   ALKEN 


A    NEW   EDITION 


NEW    YORK 

D.  APPLETON   &   COMPANY 

1903 


Ok 


NOTE 

'"PHIS     Issue    is    founded    on    the    Edition 
published    by    Rudolph    Ackermann    in 
the  year  1842. 


PREFACE 


MY  design  and  object  in  writing  this  work  was  not 
merely  to  depict  the  life  of  a  siJortsman,  in  the 
general — perhaps,  with  some  persons,  unfavourable — 
acceptation  of  that  term,  but,  taking  higher  ground,  to 
portray  the  character  of  an  English  gentleman  attached 
to  the  sports  and  pastimes  of  his  country ;  and,  likewise, 
to  give  a  sketch  of  a  country  gentleman's  family,  in  as 
close  imitation  as  possible  of  those  of  the  best  descrip- 
tion, with  which  it  has  been  my  good  fortune  to  become 
acquainted.  In  fact,  in  many  instances,  the  imitation,  or 
resemblance,  is  so  close,  as  not  to  be  doubtful  to  many  as 
to  who  are  the  original  parties  ;  and  they  themselves 
cannot  be  displeased  with  my  selection,  when  they  are 
intended  to  be  displayed  as  exemplars  worthy  of  being 
followed  by  others. 

The  plan,  or  outline,  of  this  half-true,  half-fictitious 
story,  is  soon  told.  It  is,  as  has  already  been  observed, 
descriptive  of  a  country  gentleman,  of  large  fortune  and 
highly  connected,  having  two  sons  and  two  daughters. 
He  himself  is  a  sportsman,  but  only  to  a  certain  extent ; 
that  is  to  say,  he  does  not  aspire  to  fox-hunting,  but  keeps 
a  first-rate  jjack  of  harriers,  and  is  also  a  good  shot.  His 
eldest  son  has  nothing  sporting  in  his  constitution,  but  has 
all  the  good  qualities  that  adorn  and  exalt  our  nature,  and 
for  which,  of  course,  full  credit  is  given  him.  The  hero 
of  my  tale  is  the  younger  son,  who,  differing  in  taste  from 
his  brother,  enters  into  the  sports  of  the  field  at  a  very 
early  age,  and  becomes  a  thorough  sportsman,  in  the 
legitimate  sense  of  that,  often  wrongly  applied,  term. 
How  far  I  have  succeeded  in  portraying  him  as  such,  my 
readers  must  be  my  judges  ;  I  can  only  say,  I  have  made 
him  follow,  as  nearly  as  I  was  able,  in  the  footsteps  of. 
those  who,  within  my  time  and  knowledge,  have  become 


vi  PREFACE 

the  most  eminent  sportsmen  of  their  day,  both  by  "  flood 
and  field." 

It  would  be  unfaithful  to  nature,  and,  therefore,  un- 
worthy of  my  pen,  were  I  to  represent  my  young  hero  as 
totally  guiltless  of  those  common  failings  to  which  in- 
experienced youth  is,  for  the  most  part,  liable  ;  but  I  have 
taken  especial  care  to  keep  him  clear  of  all  vicious  pro- 
pensities which  disgrace  the  gentleman  and  the  Christian. 
In  furtherance  of  this  purpose,  then,  I  occasionally  place 
him  in  a  dangerous  position,  the  result  of  overweening 
confidence  in  others,  so  natural  to  ingenuous  youth  ;  but 
rescue  him,  in  due  time,  partly  by  his  own  proper  prin- 
ciples, and  also  by  the  timely  assistance  of  a  faithful  and 
generous  friend.  These  little  aberrations  are  the  result 
of  his  quitting  the  noble  and  health-giving  sports  of  the 
field  for  the  dangerous  seductions  of  the  race-course, 
which  involve  him  in  considerable  difficulties,  by  the 
expenses  attendant  on  keeping  race-horses  in  the  first 
instance,  and  by  the  treacherous  conduct  of  his  trainer,  in 
the  second. 

The  situation  in  which  I  place  my  hero  with  his  uncle 
is  drawn  from  real  life,  and  with  but  few  exaggerations  or 
additions.  No  doubt  there  are  many  such  uncles,  and 
many  such  nephews  ;  and  the  moral  to  be  drawn  from 
the  relative  situations  in  which  I  place  the  two  in  question, 
may  be  neither  uninstructive  nor  useless.  Indeed,  it  has 
been  my  design,  throughout  the  entire  of  the  work,  to 
impart  to  it  a  moral  tone,  so  that,  should  those  who  may 
read  it  not  rise  the  better  from  the  perusal,  it  will  be 
their  own  fault,  and  not  mine.  At  all  events,  there  is 
nothing  in  the  sentiments  exj^ressed,  or  the  examples  put 
forth,  to  make  them  anywise  the  worse. 

In  his  character  as  a  sportsman,  I  make  my  hero  com- 
mence with  the  lowest  branches  of  the  art,  of  which  rat- 
catching  is,  I  believe,  the  type.  He  thence  proceeds  to  the 
rabbit  and  the  badger,  progressing,  gradually,  to  the  higher 
sports  of  the  field,  and  finishes  as  a  Leicestershire  fox- 
hunter,  and  a  horseman  of  the  first  class.  I  have  also 
made  him  a  coachman — that  is  to  say,  an  ardent  amateur 
of  the  coach-box,  characteristic  of  the  era  in  which  I 
place  him,  which  is,  as  nearly  as  may  be,  my  own.  In 
truth,  here  I  am  myself,  in  some  respects,  his  exemplar. 
He  commences  with'^his  pony  in  harness,  as  I  myself  did. 
He  then  becomes  a  pupil  of  a  celebrated  coachman  on  his 


PREFACE  vii 

road,  as  was  my  own  case  ;  and,  at  length,  he  is  not  only 
considered  safe— that  is,  fit  to  be  trusted  with  the  ribbons 
—but  possesses  as  much  execution  on  the  coach-box  as 
falls  to  the  lot  of  most  aspirants  to  the  very  difficult  art ; 
and  at  length  I  place  him  in  a  very  trying  situation.  By 
the  death  of  his  elder  brother,  his  uncle,  and  his  father, 
he  becomes  possessed  of  great  wealth,  and  he  does  not 
abuse  the  boon.  On  the  contrary,  he  endeavours  to 
follow  his  father's  example  in  fulfilling  the  duties  of  his 
station,  and  I  leave  him  in  the  possession  of  the  esteem  of 
his  neighbours  and  friends,  without  which  the  riches  of  a 
Croesus  aftord  little  real  satisfaction  to  the  possessor  of 
them. 

Then  I  had  another  object  in  my  view.  The  most 
careless  observer  of  the  course  of  worldly  afi'airs  must  be 
aware  that— as  has  been  the  case  in  all  ages— in  propor- 
tion as  a  country  has  arrived  at  the  highest  pitch  of 
wealth  and  refinement,  the  taste  for  the  humble,  but 
nearly  unalloyed  pleasures  of  a  country  life,  has  more  or 
less  declined. 

A  tendency  to  this  decline  has  been,  to  a  certain  extent, 
observable  in  our  own  land,  and  fears  have  been  expressed, 
lest  the  noblest  of  all  our  country  sports — fox-hunting — 
may  yield  to  this  chilling,  if  not  demoralizing  influence. 
For  my  own  part,  I  do  pot  think  it  will.  I  entertain 
that  opinion  of  the  force  of  the  almost  natural  passion 
for  hunting,  and  other  manly  diversions  which  has  ever 
distinguished  Englishmen  from  all  other  nations  under 
the  sun,  that  induces  me  to  believe  it  will  continue  to 
uphold  fox-hunting  as  the  pride  and  boast  of  all  our 
national  pastimes.  We,  however,  do  occasionally  hear 
unpleasant  forebodings  to  the  contrary.  "  Kailroads,"  says 
one  croaker  on  the  subject,  "  spoil  all  hunting  countries 
through  which  they  pass,  and  one  is  about  to  traverse  the 
cream  of  the  Leicestershire  hunts."  "  In  a  few  years," 
cries  another,  "  Paris  and  Brussels  will  be  accessible  in  a 
few  hours,  as  our  fashionable  watering-places  already  are." 
"  Melton  Mowbray  falls  off","  exclaims  a  third,  "  no  new 
settlers  in  the  town,  and  the  old  ones  will  soon  be  giving 
up."  "Young  men  leave  off  hunting  after  about  their 
third  season,"  says  a  fourth.  "  When  many  of  the  present 
masters  of  foxhounds  shall  be  taken  from  us,  none  will  be 
found  masters  in  their  stead,  beyond  a  third  or  fourth 
season,"  cries  a  fifth.     "  Game  preserves,  and  the  accursed 


viii  PREFACE 

STstem  of  steeple-racing,  is  destructive  of  the  sportsmanlike 
manner  of  riding  to  hounds,  to  the  great  discomfort  of 
their  owners,"  says  a  sixth. 

I  am  aware  there  is  truth  in  some  of  these  remarks, 
conse<[uently  cause  for  alarm  ;  and  it  is  on  this  account 
that  1  have,  in  these  pages,  striven  to  the  utmost  to  give 
a  high  colour  to  a  country  life,  and  to  represent  the 
real  modern  sportsman,  such  as  I  find  him  to  be — a 
character  not  excelled  in  ingenuous  feelings,  in  liberal 
conduct,  in  extreme  hospitality,  in  sincerity  of  friendship 
and  all  other  social  virtues,  by  any  class  m  which  it  has 
been  my  lot  to  move.  Where,  indeed,  was  there  a  fairer 
or  better  specimen  to  be  found  than  in  the  late  Mr.  Warde, 
fifty-seven  years  a  master  of  foxhounds,  and,  therefore, 
called — "  The  Father  of  the  Field  ? "  Who  ever  heard 
him  utter  an  ill-natured  word  respecting  anyone,  either 
living  or  dead  ?  Where  was  there  a  kinder  friend,  or  a 
better  neighbour  ?  and,  above  all  things,  where  was  his 
equal  as  a  companion  ?  Neither  can  I  stop  here  in 
my  panegyric  on  this  fine  specimen  of  the  old  English 
country  gentleman  and  sportsman.  Rough  as  was  his 
exterior,  Mr.  Warde  was  accomplished  and  well  informed, 
and  capable  of  adapting  his  conversation  to  any  society 
into  which  he  might  l:>e  thrown.  In  short,  it  is  a  matter 
of  doubt  whether  there  has  existed  a  man,  whose  name  has 
not  been  long  before  the  public,  either  in  the  capacity  of 
a  senator,  a  soldier,  a  sailor,  or  an  author,  so  universally 
known  as  Mr.  Warde,  of  Squerries,  in  Kent,  was  to 
Englishmen,  in  all  quarters  of  the  globe.  Let  me,  how- 
ever, not  be  understood  to  exhibit  him  as  a  pattern,  in  all 
respects,  for  young  men  of  the  present  day  to  imitate. 
Although,  doubtless,  the  somewhat  rough  exterior  which 
he  adopted,  was,  in  great  part,  adopted  for  the  sake  of 
effect  to  the  tout  ensemble  of  his  character,  still  a  more 
polished  one  than  his  was,  may  now  be  required,  in  con- 
formity to  the  increased  refinement  of  the  age. 

In  the  following  pages,  there  may  be  something  to 
amuse  if  not  to  instruct  the  female  mind.  At  all  events, 
there  is  a  little  love-making,  and  its  results ;  and  there  is 
one  instance  of  a  narrow  escape  by  my  young  hero,  of  the 
almost  inevitable  consequences  of  an  imlawfiil  attachment. 
Upon  the  whole,  however,  the  bright  side  of  human  nature 
is  displayed,  and  the  cultivation  of  cheerfulness  and  good 
humour  earnestly  recommended  as  the  sovereign  antidote 


PREFACE  ix 

to  those  mental  disorders — peevishness  and  discontent — 
which  distract  the  mind,  and  increase  the  evils  of  life, 
without  even  the  chance  of  either  removing  or  lightening 
them.  Cheerfulness  and  good  humour  are  the  harbingers 
of  virtue,  and  produce  that  serenity  which  disposes  the 
mind  to  friendship,  love,  gratitude,  and  every  other 
social  affection.  They  make  us  contented  with  ourselves, 
our  friends,  and  our  situation,  and  expand  the  heart  to 
all  the  interests  of  humanity.  It  is  in  this  spirit,  then, 
that  I  have  written,  as  others  more  worthy  of  the  task 
have  done  before  me — in  that  of  Lucretius,  indeed,  when 
he  penned  the  following  lines  : 

"Sed  veluti  pueris  absinthia  tetra  medentes 
Cum  dare  conantur,  prius  oras  pocnla  circiuii 
Contingunt  mellis  dulci  flavoque  liquore." 

NIMEOD. 
Jure  2Ath,  1842. 


CONTENTS 


CHAP. 


PAGE 


I.  Introductory— The  hero  presented— Items  of  his 
birth,  parentage,  and  education ;  together  with 
traits  of  his  idiosyncrasj',  whereby  "coming  events 
cast  their  shadows  before "       .        ....        1 

II.  The  first  great  step  in  the  life  of  our  "Sportsman  :" 
he  is  entered  at  hare— The  chapter  concludes  with 
many  choice  aphorisms  concerning  the  noble 
science,  and  sundry  anecdotes,  worthy  of  being 
recorded  in  letters  of  gold 22 

III.  Devoted  to  rural  scenes  and  characters,  and  combin- 

ing matter  of  amusement  and  instruction,  with 
maxims  of  sound  theory,  and  examples  well 
worthy  of  imitation 54 

IV.  The  hero  enters  upon  the  stage  of  life,  and  also  on 

another  stage,  which,  with  various  incidents 
narrated  in  this  chapter,  will  be  found  corrobora- 
tive of  the  adage,  that— "as  the  twig  is  bent,  the 
tree's  incliued " 65 

V.  Christmas  at  the  seat  of  "a  tine  old  English  gentle- 
man," with  its  appropriate  accompaniments— good 
company,  good  cheer,  and  good  sport       ...      78 

VI.  College  life,  with  some  sketches  of  men  and  manners 
at  Oxford,  in  the  latter  part  of  the  last  century — 
Bibury  Meeting  in  its  palmy  days   ....       87 

VII.  A  trip  to  Ascot  races,  succeeded  by  an  inquiry  into 
the  systems  and  methods  of  travelling,  from  the 
earliest  ages  to  the  golden  age  of  the  road  in  England    108 

VIII.  Eural  life  in  hall  and  field  ;    a  ball  and  a  wound 

(consequences  alike  common  in  love  and  war)       .     136 
xi 


xii  CONTENTS 

fllAP.  PAOK 

IX.  Two  events  occur,  of  great  inMuence  upon  the  career 
of  the  hero :  lie  takes  liis  degree  at  Oxford,  and 
loses  his  brother,  wherehy  he  becomes  heir  to  the 
goodly  domains  of  Amstead 151 

X.  Our  sportsman  has  now  entered  in  earnest  upon  his 
life.  He  refuses  a  seat  in  Parliament,  and  studies 
his  craft  with  enthusiasm,  opening  his  first  regidar 
hunting  cam])aign  with  tin;  Warwickshire,  under 
the  celebrated  Mr.  Corlx^t,  and  tlic  Pytchley, 
under  the  great  John  Warde 165 

XI.  'J'he  debut  in  Leicestershire — Frank  llaby  hunts  with 
the  Quorn  under  Lord  Sefton,  with  Lord  Lonsdale's, 
and  with  the  Duke  of  Rutland's  hounds  .         .     182 

Xir.  A  sample  of  a  young  sportsman's  life  in  London — 
A  near  thing  for  the  Oaks  at  Epsom,  and  a  (dose 
shave  for  the  Oaks  at  Amstead  ....     199 

XIIT.  A  season  with  Sir  Thomas  Mostyn,  in  the  Bicester 
country,  with  anecdotes  of  some  of  the  leading 
sportsmen  in  the  provinces  at  that  day,  and  a 
glance  at  "  home,  sweet  home  "        ....     219 

XIV.  A  few  words  on  summering  hunters.  Mr.  Corbet's 
country  and  men,  and  the  finish  of  the  season 
with  the  Atherstone 244 

XV.  The  death  of  Mr.  Beaumont  llaljy,  and  the  installa- 
tion of  the  hero  into  a  regular  sporting  establish- 
ment, the  details  of  which  are  given  at  some  length     263 

XVI.  The  B.D.C.  and  B.C.M.  Our  sportsman  makes  a 
tour,  in  which  he  visits  many  of  the  most  cele- 
brated fox-hunting  establishments  in  England  .     310 

XVII.  Frank  Raby  becomes  a  regular  Meltonian  ;  loses  his 
father,  and  finally  settles  down  as  a  master  of  fox- 
hounds, the  point  of  honour  in  the  Life  of  a 
Sportsman 356 


LIST    OF    ILLUSTRATIONS 


A  instead  Abbey 

Eriibletnatic  Title — "  The  Lite  of  a  Sportsman  ' 
•'  Yoicks  !  Tally-lio  !  Look  out  for  the  pastry 
"  He'll  leather  two  such  chaps  as  that !  " 

"Soho!" 

Bagging  the  badger  .... 


"You  are  worth  double  what  1  gave  for  you 
'' He's  heart  of  oak  !  "       .... 
Portrait  of  Dick  Knight,  after  H.  Mar.sliall 
*'  HLs  reverence  .swims  like  a  cork  !  " 
"  Who-whoop  !  I've  done  it !  " 
Hunting  the  marten  cat  .... 

The  otter  hunt 

*'  What's  the  price  of  the  young  nag,  miller  ': 

Tlie  .shallows  below  the  mill    . 

The  Priiice  of  Wales— Birmingham  coach 

"  H.  for  Windsor  ;  go  along,  Bob  !  " 

''  Never  mind  'em, — they  won't  hurt !  "  . 

Bibury  meeting  in  its  palmy  days 

The  tandem     ...... 

*' All  Captain  Askham's,  sir" 
*'  He  is  among  the  dead  " 
Flapper-.shooting  on  the  great  lake  in  the  Pai 
*'Mr.  Ridgeways'  good  health — noio"     . 
"  Follow  my  leader  "       .... 

A  meet  with  his  Grace  tlie  Duke  of  Rutland 
A  night  scene  with  Sir  Thomas  Mostyn  . 


Frontispiece 
To  face  ditto 
Pag  J    l;j 

18 

2y 

27 
38 
43 


49 
50 

56 
58 
61 
63 
76 


89 
97 
98 
117 
119 
146 
l.ol 
192 
196 
221 


xiv  LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS 


PAGE 

"  Not  Handel's  sweet  music  more  pleases  the  ear,      "I  ^^n- 
Than  that  of  the  hounds  in  full  cry "                       J     "         * 

"The  check" — "For  a  moment  a  sheep-foil  now  baffles  the 

scent" 256 

The  four-in-hand 288 

The  three  teams 297 

The  race  for  the  Welter  Stakes 320 

"  Fox-hunting  for  ever  !".......  330 

Mr.  Musters  hunted  by  his  hounds 348 

Our  hero's  first  run  with  his  own  hounds        ....  395 

"  The  Master  of  the  Raby  Hunt,— one  cheer  more  "       .         .  396 


THE 

LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAiV 

CHAPTER     I 

lutroductory — The  hero  presented — Items  of  his  birth,  parentage, 
and  education,  together  with  traits  of  his  idiosyncrasy,  whereby 
"coming  events  cast  their  shadows  before." 

IX  the  latter  part  of  the  last  century,  in  one  of  the 
finest  of  the  midland  counties  of  England,  lived 
Andrew  Raby,  a  commoner,  of  large  possessions,  and  of 
very  old  English  blood.  When,  however,  I  use  the 
term  "large  possessions,"  I  do  not  desire  to  convey  the 
idea  of  his  having  an  income  sufificient  to  keep  up  a 
degree  of  pomp  and  dignity  equal  to  that  of  his  titled 
superiors,  but  such  as  enabled  him  fully  to  support  the 
respectable  and  honourable  station  of  an  English  country 
gentleman,  and  to  indulge  in  all  those  pursuits  which 
were  congenial  to  his  own  taste,  and,  likewise,  to  exercise 
almost  unbounded  hospitality  towards  his  friends.  In 
fact,  his  rental  was  a  little  above  ten  thousand  pounds 
per  annum  ;  which,  when  the  usual  drawbacks  of  agencies, 
repairs,  and  other  heavy  outgoings  attendant  on  landed 
property,  in  addition  to  an  annuity  he  paid  to  a  sister, 
were  deducted,  left  him — for  he  had  no  interest  of  money 
to  pay  to  mortgagees  (indeed  it  was  his  boast,  that  no 
lawyer  held  as  much  parchment  security  of  his  as  would 
cover  a  crown  piece) — a  clear  annual  income  of  seven 
thousand  pounds  ;  at  least  he  reckoned  not  on  more,  on 
a  fair  average  of  years.  With  this  comparatively  limited 
income,  he  inhabited  a  house  suitable  for  a  man  of  twice 
his  means.  It  covered  three  sides  of  a  quadrangular 
court ;  displaying  a  sumptuous  character  in  its  archi- 
tectural ornaments  without,  and  containing  elegant  and 


2  THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN 

spacious  apartments  witliin.  Planned  after  the  fashion 
of  the  Elizabethan  age,  Amstead  Abbey  stood  on  an 
island,  formed  by  a  deep  moat,  and  within  the  palings 
of  an  extensive  and  finely  timbered  park,  containing  a 
herd  of  deer  sufficiently  ample  for  the  use  of  a  private 
gentleman  ;  the  gardens,  too,  were  large,  no  less  than 
three  hundred  yards  of  '^ glass'' — as  forcing  houses  are 
technically  denominated — being  visible  in  them,  exclusive 
of  hot  walls.  A  farm  of  three  hundred  acres  of  the  best 
staple  land  of  the  county  was  in  occupation,  under  the 
eye  of  a  Scotch  bailiff;  and,  having  been  conducted  on 
improved  principles,  it  greatly  outstripped  its  neighbours 
in  its  produce,  and  turned  to  a  very  profitable  account  : 
the  surrounding  country  was  also  of  the  richest  and 
most  valuable  description. 

Mr.  Raby's  establishment  consisted,  indoors,  of  a  butler 
and  two  footmen,  with  all  the  requisite  females,  and  was 
only  deficient  in  one  respect — it  wanted  the  man  cook  to 
aid  the  English  kitchen-maid  ;  but  against  this  there  was 
a  prejudice  which  time  has  since  removed.  At  the  period 
to  which  I  allude,  there  was  an  objection  against  these 
chefs  of  the  kitchen,  on  the  score  of  wasteful  extravagance 
in  their  operations  ;  experience,  however,  has  since  shown 
that  their  art  is  practised  to  advantage  in  all  large 
establishments.  By  the  almost  magical  power  of  the 
rechauffoir,  the  remains  of  yesterday's  dinner  instead  of 
being  looked  lightly  upon,  if  not  in  great  part  cast  to 
the  dogs,  are  sent  smoking  and  savoury  into  the  servants' 
hall,  and  so  disguised  as  to  leave  the  inmates  of  it  in 
doubt  whether  the  dishes  are  rechauffes  or  not.  His 
woman  cook,  however,  was  as  good  as  high  wages  could 
procure,  and  his  guests  had  no  cause  for  complaint.  But 
the  style  of  living  was  truly  English,  and,  as  such,  the 
assistance  of  Monsieur  was  less  necessary  ;  the  consumption 
of  animals  was  prodigious  from  the  numbers  of  comers 
and  goers,  in  addition  to  the  family  itself;  and  did  a 
sirloin  of  beef  make  its  appearance  on  a  Sunday,  and  a 
round  on  the  Monday,  they  might  be  looked  for  in  vain 
on  the  Tuesday. 

There  was  one  species  of  luxury — refinement,  indeed, 
it  may  be  termed,  in  reference  to  those  times — in  which 
Mr.  Raby  indulged  ;  and  this  was  the  selection  of  his 
footmen  and  postillions.  The  first  were  London-bred  ; 
he  declared  that  he  never  saw  a  country-bred  footman 


THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN  3 

who  could  bring  a  message  into  a  room,  or  an  under-biitler 
of  the  same  genus,  who  could  clean  a  service  of  plate; 
and  no  man's  table  in  the  country  was  better  set  out  than 
Mr.  Raby's.  Of  his  coach-horses  he  was  justly  proud,  and 
he  liked  to  see  them  ridden  and  driven  to  his  mind.  His 
postillions  —  for  in  those  days  gentlemen's  carriages  in 
the  country  were  not  driven  from  the  box — were  always 
Hounslow-bred  ones  ;  that  is  to  say,  sons  of  Hounslow 
post-boys,  having  had  their  education  on  the  road.  His 
turn-out,  in  this  respect,  was  perfect. 

The  out-of-doors  establishment  was  still  more  numerous. 
There  w^as  a  pack  of  harriers  in  the  kennel,  six  able  coach- 
horses  in  one  stable,  ten  hunters  in  another,  besides  a  hack 
or  two  to  go  to  post,  or  to  carry  "  how  do  ye  do's  "  about  the 
country — no  sinecure  in  those  days :  a  capital  team  of 
spaniels  for  cock-shooting,  pointers  and  setting  dogs  for 
partridges  and  hares,  under  the  care  of  an  experienced 
gamekeeper,  and  a  small  kennel  of  greyhounds  to  contend 
for  the  prizes  at  the  neighbouring  coursing  meetings.  One 
appendage  to  the  present  establishment  of  an  English 
gentleman,  however,  was  wanting  ;  I  mean  a  band  of 
night-watchers  to  protect  the  game  from  poachers,  an 
operation  beyond  the  power  of  any  single  keeper.  And 
yet  it  is  not  to  be  supposed  that  there  were  no  poachers  of 
game  in  those  days,  as,  in  that  case,  Fielding's  Black  George 
would  have  been  an  anachronism  ;  but  the  battue  system 
was  unknown.  Still,  of  pheasants,  there  was  a  sprinkling 
in  the  woods  of  this  estate  ;  and  the  delight  w^hich  the 
Squire  and  his  friends  experienced  when  they  saw  Juno 
on  the  foot  of  a  pheasant,  and  the  bird  shot  dead  to  her 
point,  more  than  equalled  that  afforded  by  a  hattue  of  tJiree 
hundred  head  in  one  day,  the  game  being  put  up  by  stable- 
boys,  without  the  use  of  dogs,  the  Newfoundland  retriever 
excepted. 

But  the  reader  may  well  ask  how  all  this  was  done  on  an 
income  of  seven  thousand  pounds. — By  management,  in  the 
first  place  ;  and,  in  the  next,  by  only  occasionally  visiting 
London  for  the  season,  Mr.  Eaby  having  little  inclination 
for  the  bustle  and  hurry  of  a  town  life ;  and  Lady  Charlotte 
(he  had  married  an  Earl's  daughter)  had  likewise  the  good 
sense  to  be  satisfied  with  what  she  had  seen  of  it,  in  its  best 
form,  during  her  residence  with  her  father  in  Grosvenor 
Square.  But  the  "  management  I  "  that  calls  forth  some 
remarks. 


4  THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN 

As  procrastination  is  tlie  thief  of  time,  payment  delayed 
is  a  thief  of  another  description.  It  is  not,  i^er  se,  a  robber, 
but  it  opens  the  door  to  robbery  of  every  description  ;  and 
gentlemen  who  require  long  credit,  pay  twenty  per  cent,  at 
least  for  it.  Mr.  Raby,  however,  went  on  quite  another 
tack  in  the  conduct  of  his  expenditure.  In  lieu  of  paying 
a  bonus,  that  is,  what  is  called  the  "  put-on- price  "  for  long 
credit,  he  received  a  discount  by  paying  ready  money  for 
everything  purchased  in  London,  or  other  distant  places  ; 
and,  in  his  own  immediate  neighbourhood,  on  the  first 
Monday  in  every  month,  all  his  small  bills  were  discharged. 
He  had  the  list  of  them  on  his  dressing-table,  when  he 
came  down  from  his  chamber  in  the  morning,  and,  having 
examined  the  items,  and  found  them  correct,  wrote  a 
cheque  on  his  banker  for  the  amount.  He  reckoned  that 
by  this  arrangement  he  saved  five  hundred  pounds  per 
annum,  which  about  paid  his  wine-merchant's  bill.  It  is 
scarcely  necessary  to  add  that,  exclusive  of  any  other  con- 
sideration, this  punctuality  in  the  disbursement  of  a  large 
income  rendered  Mr.  Raby  very  popular  in  his  neighbour- 
hood ;  and  knowing,  from  experience  of  the  world,  that 

When  the  means  are  gone  that  buy  this  praise. 
The  breath  is  gone  whereof  this  praise  is  made, 

he  never  deviated  from  the  practice  to  the  last  year  of  his 
life.  In  fact,  so  much  esteemed  was  he,  as  a  gentleman 
and  a  landlord,  that  he  might  have  represented  his  county 
in  Parliament,  had  he  been  disposed  so  to  have  done  ;  but 
either  from  a  disinclination  to  take  the  onus  of  so  respon- 
sible a  situation  upon  himself,  or,  it  might  have  been, 
from  a  mistrust  of  his  ability  to  do  justice  to  it,  it  devolved 
upon  a  neighbouring  baronet.  Still,  let  it  not  be  supposed 
that  Mr.  Raby  was  a  man  of  mere  animal  life,  given  to 
decry  the  value  of  literary  attainments,  averse  to  the 
fashionable  refinements  of  that  polished  age,  much  less 
insensible  to  the  common  feelings  of  our  nature.  Far 
from  it,  no  man  indulged  more  in  those  sympathies  which 
unite  landlord  and  tenant,  master  and  servant,  in  a  bond 
of  reciprocal  kindness  and  good  offices,  nor  more  strictly 
performed  the  higher  duties  of  his  station.  But  his  chief 
purpose  was  this  : — he  wished  to  be  considered,  as  nearly 
as  his  nature  would  admit,  a  perfect  specimen  of  the  English 
country  gentleman,  whose  head  modern  philosophy  had  not 
yet  enlightened,  at  the  expense  of  the  best  feelings  of  the 


THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN  5 

heart ;  unsopliisticated  by  foreign  fopperies  ;  a  man  whose 
character  could  face  the'  world,  and  whose  spirit  would 
not  fear  it.  Again,  this  maxim  was  often  in  his  mouth  : 
"  Wealth,"  he  would  say,  "  is  not  his  who  possesses  it,  but 
his  who  enjoys  it ; "  and  he  acted  up  to  the  moral  of  it. 
^'Lcetiis  aliis,  sapiens  sibi,"  he  loved  to  see  his  friends 
enjoying  themselyes  by  his  means  ;  and,  as  regarded  him- 
self, his  object  was  to  gather  the  rose  and  leaye  the  thorn 
behind. 

Mr.  Raby,  however,  being  the  father  of  my  hero,  I  must 
now  speak  of  him  in  the  capacity  of  a  sportsman  ;  and  a 
sportsman  he  was,  although  but  to  a  certain  extent.  In  the 
first  place,  he  was  not  a  fox-hunter,  but  confined  himself 
to  his  harriers,  which  were  quite  perfect  of  their  kind — 
indeed,  the  crack  pack  of  all  the  neighbouring  counties. 
And  well  might  they  be  such,  for  the  breed  had  been  pre- 
served and  improved  upon,  for  more  than  half  a  century 
by  his  father  and  himself  ;  and,  from  the  number  of  walks 
he  had  for  puppies  amongst  his  own  tenants,  and  those  of 
his  neighbours,  he  bred  as  many  young  hounds  every  year, 
to  make  a  choice  of,  as  some  masters  of  foxhounds.  Then 
his  hunting  establishment  was  perfect ;  and,  as  regarded 
horses,  at  least,  not  far  from  being  equal  to  that  necessary 
for  foxhounds  hunting  only  three  days  in  the  week.  He 
kept  ten  slapping  hunters  for  himself  and  his  two  men  ; 
and  he  never  had  less  than  forty  couples  of  working  hounds 
in  his  kennel.  Nor  must  I  pass  over  the  manner  in  which 
his  pack  were  turned  out.  As  for  themselves,  they  were, 
as  I  have  already  observed,  perfect.  There  was  not  an  inch 
between  any  one  and  another  in  height ;  their  form  was 
that  of  the  modern  foxhound  in  miniature  ;  their  tongues 
light,  but  musical,  and  their  condition  as  perfect  as  their 
form.  His  huntsman  was  likewise  a  model  of  his  order, 
having  been  the  grandson  of  one  man,  and  the  son  of 
another,  who  had  filled  the  same  situation  in  life  ;  he  was, 
therefore,  well  bred  for  his  calling.  He  was,  however, 
what  is  called  "  a  character,"  a  bundle  of  vagaries  in  his 
way.  In  the  first  place,  although  a  horseman  of  the  first 
class,  he  was  difiicult  to  be  suited  with  horses  ;  neither 
did  he  fancy  any  that  he  had  not  himself  made  choice  of. 
And  even  here  appeared  the  "  character."  He  would  take 
a  fancy  to  animals  by  no  means  likely  to  make  hunters, 
but  which,  as  though  instinct  directed  him  in  his  election, 
seldom  failed  in  turning  out  such.     The  mention  of  one 


6  THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN 

of  these  animals,  in  fact,  is  now  in  the  mouths  of  some  old 
men  in  the  parish,  when  speaking  of  Dick,  the  Squire's 
huntsman,  and  his  lop-eared  horse,  which  he  purchased 
out  of  a  neighbouring  gentleman's  coach-stable.  Mounted 
on  this  horse,  however,  Dick  was  in  his  element ;  beauti- 
fully did  he  ride  him  to  the  music  of  his  crack  pack,  and, 
did  he  espy  among  his  field  any  gentlemen  whom  he  knew 
to  have  hunted  in  Leicestershire  (he  designated  all  such 
"  your  silver -handled  sportsmen  "),  awful  must  have  been 
the  fence  that  turned  him  ten  yards  from  his  line,  when 
his  hounds  were  on  a  good  scent. 

Nor  was  Dick  less  notable  in  the  field.  He  "did  the 
trick "  in  a  style  diff'ering  from  his  brother  huntsmen  of 
the  scut,  and,  to  manifest  his  superiority  by  quitting  the 
beaten  track,  hunted  his  pack  as  if  they  had  been  fox- 
hounds. He  tallyhoed  his  hares  when  they  were  in  view  ; 
hallooed  his  hounds  forward,  cap  in  hand,  to  a  point ;  and, 
by  forcing  his  game  to  fiy  beyond  their  knowledge  of  the 
country  in  which  they  were  bred,  had  runs  of  extra- 
ordinary duration.  In  fact,  such  was  the  speed  of  these 
harriers,  from  the  head  they  carried  in  chase,  the  result  of 
the  care  taken  in  the  breeding  of  them,  that  many  first- 
rate  hunters — ay,  and  hunters  of  fame  too — have  been 
blown  to  a  dead  stand-still,  in  the  attempt  to  lie  by  the 
side  of  them  in  a  burst,  when  the  ground  has  been  tender 
under  their  feet,  and  the  scent  good  ;  and  yet  no  man  had 
more  patience  than  Dick,  when  his  hounds  were  brought 
down  to  their  noses  by  the  stain  from  cattle  or  sheep,  or 
by  a  passing  cloud  or  storm.  Here  he  was  the  hare- 
hunter  ;  and  often  has  been  the  time  when  success  has 
rewarded  his  patience,  after  that  of  his  field  had  been 
exhausted.  What  did  you  do  with  your  last  hare  ?  would 
be  the  question  put  to  him  many  times  during  the  season, 
by  Mr.  Raby,  on  his  return  home,  he  himself  having  left 
in  a  moment  of  despair.  "  I  i^ersevered,  sir,  and  killed 
her,"  was  the  general  reply. 

Mr.  Eaby  pursued  one  practice  connected  with  his  hunt- 
ing, which  might,  with  advantage,  be  more  generally 
observed.  He  provided  his  huntsman  with  a  book,  in 
which  were  inserted  the  names  of  all  the  occupiers  of 
land  over  which  he  sported,  and  he  ordered  that  a  hare 
should  be  given  to  each  in  his  turn,  and  oftentimes  twice, 
during  the  season. 

But  Mr.  Rabv  was  not  a  fox-hunter  ;  for,  in  the  first 


THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN  7 

place,  althougli  an  elegant  horseman,  and  an  excellent 
judge  of  the  animal,  he  was  not  a  strong-nerved  man  over 
a  country.  He  was  shy  of  timber  and  wide  brooks,  and, 
therefore,  judiciously  avoided  entering  into  a  pursuit  in 
which  he  was  aware  he  could  not  shine.  Next,  he  was 
bred  up  a  hare-hunter,  and  considered  that  the  act  of 
confining  his  attention  to  one  sort  of  hunting  would  be 
the  surest  means  of  perj^etuating  the  fame  of  his  fathers 
kennel,  if  not  of  increasing  it.  Thirdly,  he  had  numerous 
duties  to  perform  as  a  magistrate,  and  otherwise,  exclusive 
of  those  of  his  own  domestic  station,  which  were  less  inter- 
rupted by  the  gentler  pursuit  of  the  hare  ;  but  when  the 
foxhounds  appeared  in  his  neighbourhood,  he  would  often 
see  them  find  their  fox,  and  they  were  nearly  certain  to 
do  so  in  any  of  his  own  covers.  Had  a  keeper  of  his 
levelled  his  gun  at  a  fox,  or  designedly  caught  him  in  a 
trap,  he  would  have  been  discharged  on  the  morrow,  as 
having  committed  a  flagrant  disobedience  of  orders. 

Neither  was  Mr.  Raby  a  •  racing  man.  To  speak  the 
truth,  although  quiet,  even  to  diffidence,  in  bis  deportment, 
there  was  in  his  nature  an  ambition  to  excel  in  what  he 
attempted.  His  estate  was  the  best  conditioned  in  his 
county  ;  his  harriers  were,  perhaps,  the  best  of  that  day 
in  England  ;  his  pointers  and  setting  dogs — for  he  used 
the  latter  to  the  net — were  perfect  of  their  kind  ;  and  his 
breed  of  spaniels  was  sought  after  by  every  sportsman  who 
had  heard  of  it.  But  he  was  aware  that,  had  he  sought 
for  it,  excellence  on  the  turf  was  out  of  his  reach.  Even 
the  legitimate  means  of  insuring  success,  as  the  experience 
of  many  of  his  friends  had  convinced  him,  were  doubtful  ; 
the  illegitimate  ones  he  would  not  have  availed  himself  of, 
if  presented  to  him. 

There  is  one  part  of  Mr.  Raby's  conduct  as  a  sportsman 
of  which  notice  should  not,  on  any  account,  be  omitted, 
inasmuch  as  it  affords  an  example  highly  worthy  of 
imitation  by  all  whose  means  give  them  the  power.  I 
allude  to  the  generous  care  he  took  of  his  worn-out 
hunters  and  coach-horses,  in  lieu  of  the  too  common 
practice  of  selling  them  for  trifling  sums,  and  exposing 
them  to  severe  labour  when  least  able  to  endure  it.  He 
had,  after  the  manner  of  a  master  of  foxhounds  of  the 
present  day,i  a  range  of  pastures  sacred  to  the  repose  of 
these  pensioners  on  his  bounty,  in  which  tbey  enjoyed 
1  The  Viscount  Kelburne. 


8  THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN 

themselves  in  perfect  freedom  from  labour,  and  in  full 
suppl}^  of  all  that  old  age  requires.  Each  of  the  fields  had 
a  comfortable  shed,  to  which  they  could  resort,  to  protect 
themselves  from  cold  in  winter,  as  well  as  from  the  gad- 
fly in  the  summer,  and  in  which,  in  the  first-named 
season,  was  the  well-furnished  hay-crib,  and,  occasionally, 
still  more  nourishing  food.  Mr.  Raby  took  a  pleasure 
in  exhibiting  these  pensioners  to  his  friends.  "These 
animals  have  been  all  valuable  servants  to  me,"  he  would 
say,  on  such  occasions,  "  and  have  strong  claims  uj)on  my 
protection.  That  roan  gelding,  which  lias  now  scarcely  a 
leg  to  support  his  body  upon,  carried  me,  with  my  hounds, 
thirteen  seasons,  and  only,  to  my  recollection,  gave  me 
five  falls,  two  of  which  were  not  to  be  laid  to  his  account. 
He  was  once  as  proud  and  prancing  as  he  is  now  humble 
and  decrepid,  and,  I  fear,  I  shall  soon  be  obliged  to  have 
an  end  put  to  his  days,  as  a  lesser  evil  of  two.  Yon  milk- 
white  horse — once  a  dark  iron-grey,  dragging  his  slow 
length  along — was,  in  the  days  of  his  youth,  for  I  bred 
him,  such  a  roving,  riotous  fellow,  that  no  hedge  or  gate 
could  keep  him  within  bounds,  and  it  was  a  day's  work  to 
catch  him.  Then,  when  caught,  he  was  no  horse  for  me  ; 
but  as  I  happened  at  that  time  to  have  a  sort  of  dare-devil 
lad,  as  whipper-in,  who  valued  him  for  his  skittishness 
and  impetuosity,  he  made  him  an  excellent  hunter.  Now 
such  was  precisely  the  character  of  this  lad  himself,  who, 
after  rather  a  wild,  but  not  vicious  career,  sobered  down, 
like  his  colt,  into  an  excellent  servant,  and  lived  with  me, 
as  a  whipper-in,  till  his  death,  which  was  occasioned  by  a 
bad  fall,  but  not  from  that  horse.  In  fact,  the  horse  and 
his  rider  appeared  to  reform  themselves  together.  But 
the  most  extraordinary  animal  here  is  that  strawberry- 
coloured  mare,  which  you  see  reposing  in  the  shade.  She 
was  purchased  out  of  a  hack-chaise,  for  the  sum  of  twenty- 
five  guineas,  by  my  huntsman,  who  took  a  fancy  to  her  ; 
and,  although,  as  you  will  perceive,  showing  no  signs  of 
high  breeding,  nor  3-et  of  much  speed,  she  proved  the  best 
hunter,  for  the  weight  she  had  to  carry,  I  have  ever  yet 
seen.  It  is  evident  that  neither  her  sire  nor  her  dam 
could  have  been  of  pure  racing  blood ;  but  report  says  that 
the  latter  was  brought  into  this  county  by  some  gipsies 
from  the  Kew  Forest,  in  Hampshire,  and  hence  her 
excellence  is  accounted  for.  She  was,  I  am  inclined  to 
think,  the  produce  of  the  celebrated  Marske,  the  sire  of 


THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN  9 

Eclipse,  who  covered  mares — New  Forest  ponies  amongst 
them,  of  course — at  the  low  price  of  one  guinea.  In  her 
best  days,  it  was  difficult  to  blow  this  mare  in  a  burst :  no 
fence  that  could  be  jumped  by  a  horse  could  pound  her  ; 
nor  did  I  ever  know  her  to  come  home  to  the  stable  tired, 
after  the  longest  day's  work.  She  is  now,  however,  as 
you  will  perceive  by  her  languid  eye,  her  distended 
carcass,  low  back,  and  fallen  crest,  in  extreme  old  age,  the 
evils  of  which  I  have  taken  some  pains  to  alleviate,  in 
consideration  of  her  fourteen  years'  services,  and  I  rejoice 
in  the  reflection  that  a  large  offer  did  not  induce  me  to 
part  with  her  when  in  her  ^jrime." 

Having  sketched  the  character  of  Mr.  Raby,  that  of  his 
lady  shall  follow,  and  a  few  words  will  suflice.  It  has 
already  been  said  that  Lady  Charlotte  Raby  was  an  Earl's 
daughter.  By  uniting  herself  in  marriage  to  a  commoner, 
she  had  descended  a  step  in  society,  according  to  the 
opinion  of  the  world,  although,  in  her  own  eyes  her 
husband  was  ennobled  beyond  the  power  of  a  coronet 
to  dignify  him,  by  his  conduct  as  a  man  and  a  hus- 
band. Neither  did  she  look  back  with  regret  towards 
the  theatre  of  her  early  life,  in  which  her  charms  and 
accomplishments  had  met  with  universal  admiration.  She 
had  enjoyed  nearly  seven  years  of  what  is  called  the 
fashionable  London  "World,  and  that  in  all  its  glory  ;  and 
she  had  had  enough  of  it.  She  had  become  the  wife  of  a 
country  gentleman,  and  was  the  mother  of  four  children  ; 
and  she  learnt,  from  the  experience  of  the  first  seven  years 
of  so  very  different  a  life,  this  great  moral  truth  : — that, 
although  pleasure,  amusement,  and  oblivion  of  self  are  to 
be  found  in  the  ballroom  or  at  the  opera,  and,  although 
they  occasionally  hover  around  the  stranger's  hearth,  still 
of  all  the  sources  of  human  hapj^iness,  domestic  life  is  the 
richest  and  most  productive ;  and  had  Lady  Charlotte 
Rab}^  read  Horace,  she  would  have  exclaimed,  with  him, 
whilst  reviewing  her  situation  at  Amstead  Abbey,  in  the 
bosom  of  her  own  family,  and  surrounded  by  friends  in 
whose  esteem  she  lived,  "  Quod  i^etis  hie  est.'''  In  other 
words,  she  might  have  added  this  postscript  to  her 
answers  to  the  letters  of  her  London  correspondents,  who 
transmitted  to  her  the  doings  of  the  gay  world  : —  Wliat 
you  look  for  elsewhere,  I  find  here. 

There  was,  however,  one  feature  in  this  amiable  lady's 
character  which  I  am   unwilling  not   to   exhibit  to  my 


lo         THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN 

readers.  It  too  often  happens  that  highly-bred  women, 
who  emerge  from  the  vortex  of  the  fashionable  world  to 
reside  in  the  country  with  the  husbands  of  their  choice, 
look  slightingly  on  the  wives  and  daughters  of  the 
gentlemen  in  the  neighbourhood  who  may  not  have  had 
the  entree  into  similar  walks  of  life  (from  which,  indeed, 
their  situation  and  circumstances  excluded  them),  or  are 
unable  to  exhibit  so  many  quarterings  in  their  escutcheons. 
This  was  not  Lady  Charlotte's  failing.  On  the  contrary, 
like  a  woman  of  good  sense,  she  conformed  to  the 
situation  which  she  had  selected  for  herself  in  every 
respect  ;  and  although,  within  the  circle  of  her  visiting, 
there  were  several  ladies  holding  rank  nearly  equal  to  her 
own,  still  there  were  no  young  ladies  of  her  acquaintance 
oftener  to  be  seen  at  the  Abbey  than  the  daughters  of  the 
rector  of  the  parish. 

The  rector  of  Amstead  was  an  old-fashioned  country 
clergyman  of  whom  John  Bull  was  once  wont  to  be  so 
proud,  and  to  whom  obedience  and  tithes  were  paid 
without  a  murmur.  Enabled,  by  the  value  of  his 
preferment,  the  prudent  management  of  his  income,  and 
a  limited  family — two  daughters  and  one  son — to  make  a 
most  respectable  appearance  in  society,  and  to  add  to  the 
valuable  instruction  given  by  him  to  his  congregation  in 
the  church,  assistance  to  such  as  stood  in  need  of  it  at 
their  homes,  he  was  extremely  beloved  in  his  parish.  In 
fact,  he  was  to  the  poor  a  "  Man  of  Ross  ; "  and  to  his  flock 
so  much  a  pastor  to  their  mind  that  dissent  was  unknown 
in  his  parish.  And  yet  the  rector  was  a  sportsman — at 
least  to  a  certain  extent.  He  was  an  excellent  shot,  in 
cover  especially,  the  woodcock  being  his  favourite  quarry. 
And  here  his  turn-out  was  somewhat  remarkable,  for  he 
was  always  accompanied  by  his  clerk,  who  was  not  only 
an  excellent  beater  of  a  wood,  but,  having  been  the  son 
of  an  Amstead  gamekeeper,  well  knew  the  haunts  of  a 
cock,  in  all  the  covers  in  his  neighbourhood.  The  clerk, 
however,  like  his  rector,  was  much  respected  in  his 
village,  where  he  was  considered  a  man  of  no  mean 
accomplishments,  inasmuch  as,  exclusively  of  his  sacred 
avocation,  he  was  both  a  shoemaker  and  a  schoolmaster, 
which  induced  a  wag  to  indite  this  couplet  over  his 
door  : — 

John  Wells'  trades  are  three — 
Cobbler^  clerk,  and  domine ! 


THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN  ii 

The  mention  of  one  more  person  is  essential  to  the 
development  of  my  tale — Mr.  Beaumont  Raby,  brother  to 
the  Squire  of  Amstead,  but  of  very  different  habits  and 
pursuits.  In  the  first  place,  he  was  not  a  sportsman  ;  and 
this  for  reasons  independent  of  a  natural  disinclination  for 
all  sports  of  the  field.  His  immense  size  would  have  been 
an  obstacle  to  it,  for  he  might  have  played  Falstafi"  with- 
out stuffing.  Again,  his  health  was  not  good.  He  had 
incurred  some  of  the  penalties  attendant  on  idleness  and 
high  feeding  ;  but  he  equalled  his  brother  in  kind-hearted- 
ness and  good  feeling,  and  exceeded  him  in  accomplish- 
ments, the  result  of  the  life  he  had  led.  His  history  is 
this  : — Having  had  an  ample  fortune  left  him  when  a 
child,  by  a  person  to  whom  he  was  but  distantly  related, 
he  entered,  with  his  brother,  as  a  gentleman  commoner  of 
Christ  Church,  Oxford,  where  he  took  a  very  high  degree. 
He  then  became  a  member  of  the  Inner  TemjDle,  not  with 
the  view  of  making  a  profession  of  the  law,  but  to  qualify 
himself  for  a  member  of  the  senate,  which  it  was  his 
ambition  to  become.  Nor  was  he  disappointed.  He  sat 
in  two  short  Parliaments,  during  which  he  made  three 
speeches,  each  affording  the  promise  of  brighter  days 
to  come.  They  were  not  only  occasionally  adorned  by 
classic  flowers,  culled  from  the  poets  and  historians  of  the 
Augustan  age,  but  they  were  also  remarkable  for  clear 
views  of  their  subjects,  and  a  business-like  manner  of 
debating  them.  The  natural  indolence  of  his  disposition, 
however,  obtained  the  mastery  over  his  inclinations  ;  his 
seat  in  the  House  was  not  sought  for  a  third  time  ;  he 
became  a  mere  votary  of  ease  and  pleasure — in  fact,  what 
is  called  a  regular  London  man  ;  thinking  with  Sir 
Fojiling  Flutter,  in  the  play,  that  "  all  beyond  Hyde  Park 
Corner  is  a  desert."  At  all  events,  the  simple  and  humble 
pleasures  which  a  country  life  affords  would  have  been 
to  him  something  more  than  insipid.  Nevertheless,  the 
two  brothers  were  greatly  attached  to  each  other  ;  were 
inseparable  when  in  London  together ;  corresponded 
regularly  when  at  a  distance  ;  and,  perhaps  once  in  three 
years,  the  ci-devant  Templar  and  ex-member  of  the  senate 
would  quit  the  gay  scenes  of  London  and  Bath  to  pass  a 
few  weeks  at  the  Abbey. 

It  has  already  been  stated  that  the  family  of  Mr.  Raby 
consisted  of  four — two  sons  and  two  daughters— all  of 
whom  lived  to  attain  their  majority  :  Francis,  the  second 


12         THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN 

son,  however,  is  the  hero  of  this  story,  and  here  his 
history  begins  : — 

He  was  born  in  the  year  1776,  and  being  the  issue  of 
sound  and  healthy  parents,  and  a  perfect  and  well-shapen 
infant,  soon  struggled  into  what  may  be  called  life  ;  that 
is  to  say,  the  "  mewling  and  puking  in  the  nurse's  arms "' 
was,  in  due  time,  succeeded  by  a  strong  desire  to  get  upon 
his  legs  and  amuse  himself.  In  fact,  although  to  declare 
the  end  from  the  beginning  is  not  within  the  scope  of 
human  power,  there  was  something  about  this  boy,  at 
the  end  of  his  third  year,  which  indicated  that,  one  day 
or  another,  in  one  jDursuit  or  other,  he  was  likely  to 
overtop  the  crowd.  It  is  true  the  human  mind  is  made 
for  action  ;  but  this  child  was  as  active  and  restless  as  the 
hyaena,  and  showed  a  desire  to  pry  into  everything  within 
his  reach  ;  and  the  predominance  of  his  taste  was  not  long 
in  disj)laying  itself.  If  he  found  a  stick,  he  wanted  a 
string  to  tie  to  the  end  of  it ;  and  if  he  found  a  string, 
he  wanted  a  stick  to  tie  the  string  to.  In  fact,  a  whip 
was  his  delight,  but  the  sight  of  a  horse  transported  him  ; 
and  from  morning  to  night  did  his  little  tongue  ring  the 
changes  of  horse  and  whip,  whip  and  horse,  varied  only 
by  an  occasional  notice  of  a  favourite  dog,  that  was 
allowed  to  make  its  domicile  in  the  nursery.  In  short, 
as  the  dawn  of  morning  generally  shows  the  day,  it  was 
evident  that  Francis  Raby  was  to  be  a  sportsman. 

As  may  be  imagined  from  their  situation  in  life,  Francis 
Raby  and  his  brother  (who  was  named  after  his  father)  had 
every  care  taken  of  them  in  their  infancy  ;  and,  before 
they  were  eight  years  of  age,  their  characters  were  pretty 
clearly  developed.  But  as  "  one  star  differeth  from  another 
star  in  glory,"  so  did  the  characters  of  these  brothers 
vary  in  a  very  unusual  degree.  Andrew  was  always  in 
the  house,  and  with  his  mother  when  he  could  be ; 
Francis  out  of  doors,  and  about  the  stables  as  soon  as  he 
could  break  loose  and  steal  away.  Andrew  delighted  in 
a  book  ;  Francis  appeared  to  have  an  antipathy  to  one. 
Andrew  was  pale  and  sickly,  and  subject  to  infantine 
diseases  ;  Francis  was  a  miniature  waggoner  in  frame  and 
constitution.  In  one  respect,  however,  they  assimilated. 
Both  showed  indications  of  talent,  and,  in  their  exercises 
with  their  tutor,  who  prepared  them  for  Eton,  "the 
promise  of  a  goodly  day  to-morrow." 

There  is  nothing  more  certain  than  that  all  things  must 


THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN  13 

have  a  beginning ;  and  what  may  be  called  the  sporting 
career  of  Francis  Kaby  commenced  about  his  tenth  year, 
when  he  became  possessed  of  a  couple  of  terriers,  of  a 
good  game  breed,  sore  enemies  not  only  to  the  rats  about 
the  buildings,  but  to  all  the  cats  of  the  house,  which  were 
hunted  by  them  about  once  a  week.  On  one  occasion, 
however.  Master  Francis  had  almost  driven  the  jest  too 
far  ;  for,  having  chased  one  of  them  into  the  kitchen,  with 
his  terriers  close  at  her  tail,  she  leaped  on  the  table  and 
upset  a  tureen  of  turtle  souj^,  that  was  on  the  point  of 
being  served  up  to  a  dinner  party.  Frank,  however — for 
such  he  was  always  called,  as  most  Francises  are — got  well 
out  of  the  scrape  by  his  great  popularity  among  the 
servants,  who  either  took  the  mishap  upon  themselves, 
or  laid  it  to  that  scape-goat  in  all  families — the  cat. 
Frank  and  his  terriers,  however,  were  much  dreaded  in 
the  neighbourhood  by  all  who  had  favourite  tabbies,  as 
a  gripe  from  either  Pineher  or  Vixen  was  very  apt  to 
prove  fatal.  But,  did  Mr.  Eaby  know  of  this  cat-killing 
propensity  ?  and,  if  so,  did  he  encourage  it  ?  The  general 
character  of  that  gentleman  leads  to  the  conclusion  that 
he  would  not  have  encouraged,  in  his  children,  cruelty 
to  animals,  a  vice  the  very  reverse  of  the  characteristic 
of  the  thorough  English  sportsman.  Nevertheless  he  was 
well  aware  of  this  truism — that  to  restrain  the  pleasures 
and  pursuits  of  youth  with  too  tight  a  hand,  is  as  pre- 
posterous as  to  be  angry  with  the  spring  of  the  year 
because  it  produces  nothing  but  blossoms,  or  to  expect 
from  that  early  season  the  fruits  of  autumn  in  their 
perfection ;  and  it  must  be  admitted  that,  when  he  saw 
his  favourite  son,  Frank— for  most  fathers  have  favourites 
— with  a  couple  of  terriers  at  his  heels,  and  his  ferret  bag 
in  his  hand,  he  was  delighted  beyond  measure.  "That 
boy,"  he  would  say,  "  will  be  a  sportsman,  and  one  day  or 
another  will  see  him  at  the  top  of  the  tree,  if  he  lives." 
And  he  had  a  right  so  to  predict  of  him.  No  matter 
whether  pleasure  or  business  be  the  object,  whoever 
pursues  either  to  any  purpose,  must  do  so  con  amore, 
which  was  truly  Frank's  case.  No  sooner  did  his  tutor 
dismiss  him,  than  he  was  at  war  with  one  description  of 
vermin  or  another;  and  he  was  wonderfully  expert  in 
his  calling. 

As  similarity  of  taste   inspires   regard,   Frank,   as   he 
progressed  in  years,  formed  a   strong  alliance  with  one 


14  THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN 

of  the  head  keeper's  sons,  who,  as  his  father  had  initiated 
him  into  the  entrapping  art,  was  of  no  small  service  in 
his  pursuits ;  and  such  was  their  success  in  ferreting 
rabbits,  that  they  furnished  the  supply  for  the  house, 
of  which  they  were  not  a  little  proud,  as  there  was  no 
great  abundance  of  them  on  the  estate — Mr.  Raby  being 
averse  to  their  increase,  on  account  of  the  injury  done 
by  them  to  young  trees.  To  a  certain  extent,  however, 
he  wished  to  preserve  them,  as  the  means  of  insuring 
litters  of  foxes  in  his  covers.  Still,  as  may  be 
supposed,  this  intimate  alliance  with  Jem  Perren,  the 
young  keeper,  was  not  without  its  effect  on  the  aspiring 
mind  of  his  young  master.  From  the  superiority  of 
Jem's  knowledge  in  these  matters,  as  well  as  having 
the  advantage  in  years,  Frank  looked  up  to  him  as  his 
chief  preceptor  —  his  reverence  the  tutor  only  being 
second.  Then,  again,  Jem  was  an  accomplished  youth 
of  his  kind.  In  the  first  place.  Nature  had  not  been 
unkind  to  him  ;  he  inherited  a  great  share  of  his  father's 
acuteness,  and,  for  his  years,  more  than  his  share  of  his 
Herculean  frame  and  strength.  In  fact,  he  was  quite 
the  "  cock  of  the  walk  "  among  all  the  lads  of  the  village 
in  which  he  had  received  his  learning,  and  had  often 
amused  his  young  master  with  accounts  of  the  various 
battles  he  had  been  engaged  in,  at  least  those  which 
had  ended  in  victory. 

As  may  be  supposed,  all  this  was  not  lost  on  our  hero, 
who  listened  to  such  tales  with  delight ;  neither  can 
we  marvel  at  his  having  done  so.  He  was  now  in  his 
thirteenth  year,  and  had  been  reading  history  with  his 
tutor,  as  well  as  listening  to  his  brother  when  reading 
it,  in  portions  considered  beyond  his  own  reach  at  the 
time  ;  and  had  paid  particular  attention  to  the  accounts 
given  of  those  heroes  of  antiquity  who  had  signalized 
themselves  in  gymnastic  exercises,  boxers  and  wrestlers 
especially.  He  found  that  the  first  kings  of  the  world 
obtained  their  dominion  by  being  superior  to  all  others 
in  strength  and  courage — in  fact,  that,  even  in  Homer's 
time,  the  argumentum  haculimim  was  essential  to  the 
existence  of  all  little  governments.  Leaving  out  of  the 
question  those  apocryphal  heroes,  Hercules,  Theseus, 
Pollux,  and  others,  who  were  feigned  to  have  been  the 
original  inventors  of  games  and  combats  (considered  so 
admirably  calculated  for   rendering  the   bodies  of  youth 


THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN  15 

robust  and  vigorous,  and  capable  of  supporting  the 
severe  fatigue  of  a  soldier's  life,  that  they  were  wisely 
made  to  form  a  part  of  their  religious  worship),  he  had 
read  that  the  most  celebrated  characters  of  their  day 
excelled  in  the  boxing  and  wrestling  arts.  Epaminondas, 
for  example,  one  of  the  greatest  generals  and  most  perfect 
characters  that  Greece  ever  produced,  was  a  patron  of,  as 
well  as  conspicuous  in,  all  such  exercises  ;  and  it  is  gravely 
stated  in  history  that  a  knowledge  of  the  art  of  wrestling 
gave  to  the  Thebans  under  his  command  the  battle  of 
Leuctra,  and  decided  the  fate  of  Sparta.  Having  read 
of  all  this,  his  wonder  ceased  at  finding  that  master  of 
the  wrestling  art,  Hippomachus,  declare  that  he  could 
discover  his  scholars  at  a  distance,  though  they  were 
only  carrying  meat  from  the  shambles ;  or  that  crowns 
of  olive  should  have  been  bestowed  by  the  Eleans  on 
boys  of  his  own  age,  who  had  excelled  in  gymnastic 
exploits.  Nor  was  the  art  of  boxing  exhibited  to  his 
young,  but  aspiring  mind,  in  less  glowing  colours.  He 
found  not  only  that  Milo,  one  of  the  athletse  of  his  day, 
could  knock  down  a  bull  by  a  blow  of  his  arm,  but,  by 
the  example  of  Dares,  that  the  science  of  self-defence,  as 
the  modern  terra  is,  was  not  beneath  the  notice  of  a 
prince.  So  far  from  it,  indeed,  that,  among  the  Greek 
and  Roman  nobility  and  gentry,  scarcely  a  day,  he  found, 
passed  without  their  practising  bodily  exercises  in  the 
gymnasium — the  use  of  the  coestus  among  the  number; 
and,  to  his  surprise,  he  learned  that  even  the  love  of 
gladiatorial  shows  amongst  the  Romans  increased  as  they 
progressed  in  civilization,  and  their  manners  became  more 
refined  ;  and  that  such  exhibitions  flourished  during  the 
reigns  of  two  of  their  most  humane  emperors,  Trajan  and 
Titus.  Then,  again,  he  had  listened  to  his  father  while 
discussing  the  subject  with  his  friends,  in  reference  to 
the  doings  of  those  days  when  Broughton,  Slack, 
Humphries,  Mendoza,  Big  Ben,  and  others,  all  famous 
men  in  the  ring,  were  in  their  zenith.  Mr.  Raby, 
however,  was  no  patron  of  pugilism.  His  duties  as  a 
magistrate  forbade  it ;  still,  as  conducted  in  those  days, 
he  was  rather  favourably  inclined  towards  it  than  other- 
wise. At  all  events,  he  would  occasionally  deliver  his 
sentiments  on  the  subject  somewhat  after  this  manner  : — 
"I  am  doubtful,"  he  would  say,  "as  to  the  effect  of  con- 
flicts between  animals,  on  the  courage  of  the  people ;  at 


i6         THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN 

the  same  time  that  I  question  whether  the  extraordinary 
courage  of  the  game-cock  M'as  not  intended  as  an  example 
to  us.  One  of  the  greatest  orators  of  our  day  thinks  it 
was  ;  and  in  defence  of  the  hypothesis,  instances  the 
plucJc  and  bottom  of  Englishmen,  who  chiefly  encourage 
these  combats,  and  conduct  them  after  the  most  scientific 
manner.  Our  boxing  matches,  or  prize  fights,  as  they 
are  now  called,  are  contests  of  the  same  kind  as  the 
fights  of  the  gladiators,  only  upon  a  lower  scale  ;  with 
this  diflerence,  that  no  man  —  unless  he  chooses  —  is 
opposed  to  unequal  force  ;  and  if  we  could  divest  the 
mind  of  the  fact  that  the  contest  is  not  so  much  for  glory 
as  for  money,  such  has  been  the  display  of  manly 
intrepidity,  firmness,  gallantry,  activity,  presence  of  mind, 
and  strength,  which  some  of  our  late  prize  fights  have 
called  forth,  that  no  man  need  be  ashamed  of  having 
viewed  them  with  interest.  At  all  events,  suppress 
boxing  wholly,  and  there  will  be  an  end  to  that  sense 
of  honour,  spirit,  and  gallantry  which  distinguishes  the 
common  people  of  this  country  from  those  of  all  others, 
and  they  will  resort  to  practices,  and  the  use  of  weapons 
in  their  quarrels,  Avhich  they  now  scarcely  think  of ;  and 
which  are  cowardly  and  disgraceful,  because  they  are 
commonly  resorted  to  in  the  dark,  or  when  the  object 
of  vengeance  is  off  his  guard.  They  would  decide  their 
quarrels  with  knives  instead  of  fists,  and  the  life  of  no 
man,  in  the  lower  ranks  of  society,  who  had  given  much 
cause  of  offence,  could  be  said  to  be  safe.  In  fact,  a 
great  lawyer  has  pronounced  the  laws  of  boxing  to  be 
the  laws  of  peace,  '  teaching  that  no  unfair  advantage 
shall  be  taken  by  either  of  the  combatants,  and  putting 
a  stop  to  a  malignant  mode  of  procuring  satisfaction. 
They  inculcate  a  love  of  fair  play,  and  foster  the  natural 
courage  of  our  countrymen,  whilst  they  create  a  disgust 
in  their  minds  for  the  treacherous  use  of  the  stiletto 
or  knife.' 

"  Still,"  Mr.  Eaby  would  say,  "it  is  not  impossible  that 
the  system  of  prize-fighting,'  which  Broughton  calls  '  a 
truly  British  art,'  may  become  the  reproach,  rather  than 
the  characteristic  of  our  countrymen.  The  persons  who 
take  up  the  profession  of  public  prize-fighters  are  of 
nearly  the  lowest  grade  in  society,  and  are  too  often 
unable  to  resist  a  bribe  to  induce  them  to  do  wrong — that 
is,  to  sell  their  battles  for  money — although  there  are,  and 


THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN  17 

have  been,  many  honourable  exceptions.  They  partake 
indeed,"  he  would  say,  "of  some  of  the  obloquy  that 
attached  to  the  Roman  gladiators,  humorously  set  forth 
in  a  Greek  epigram  on  a  bad  tenant,  from  the  pen  of 
Palladus,  which  has  been  thus  translated  :— 

'I  let  my  house,  the  other  day, 
To  one  who  dealt  in  corn  and  hay  : 
Next  morning  I  found,  ah  !  woe  is  me, 
A  dreadful  pugilist  is  he. 
When  will  you  pay  my  rent  ?  quoth  I  ; 
He  lifts  his  fist  and  cocks  his  eye. 
I  then  to  Pollux  made  my  vow. 
Although  on  peace  my  thoughts  were  now, 
That  I,  before  next  quarter  day, 
Might  learn  to  box,  or  run  away.'" 

It  was  not  to  be  expected  that  much  science  in  the  art 
of  self-defence  was  to  found  in  a  gamekeeper's  lad  ;  still 
many  "  turns-up  "  with  those  who  were  bigger  and  older 
than  himself  had  imparted  to  Jem  Perren  a  tolerable 
notion  of  taking  some  care  of  himself  ;  and  he  boasted  of 
no  less  than  three  favourite  stops,  and  likewise  of  one  very 
telling  blow.  These  were,  of  course,  imparted  to  our 
hero,  who  M'ould  often  be  seen  taking  lessons  from  his 
green-jacketed  preceptor ;  and  truly  he  was  soon  a  pro- 
ficient. He  could  not  only  hit  very  hard,  in  which  his 
weight  told  to  his  advantage,  but  he  could  stop,  and  get 
away,  in  a  manner  surprising  for  his  age.  Hence  arose 
one  of  the  disadvantages  of  a  slight  knowledge  of  the 
pugilistic  art,  combined  with  the  power  and  inclination 
to  put  it  into  practice.  It  created  in  Frank  Raby  a 
domineering  spirit,  which,  notwithstanding  his  good 
sense,  and  many  excellent  qualities,  adhered  to  him,  in 
some  measure,  through  life.  Although  his  brother  was 
his  senior  by  nearly  two  years,  he  treated  him  as  his 
junior,  and,  by  the  weight  of  his  fist,  established  his  claim 
of  j^recedence.  Xo  boys  in  the  neighbouring  villages 
dared  to  cross  his  path  in  his  pursuits,  provided  they 
were  near  his  own  age,  for  his  name  was  up.  On  one 
occasion,  however,  he  signalized  himself  beyond  the  ex- 
pectation of  his  admiring  friends  ;  and,  from  his  extreme 
good  nature,  and  kind  disposition  towards  the  necessitous 
poor,  he  had  many  such  in  the  neighbourhood  in  which 
he  was  known.  Passing  through  a  village,  in  one  of  his 
roving  walks,  he  espied  one  of  those   half-baked,  half- 


i3  THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN 

nursed  ragamuffins,  a  specimen  of  whom  about  one  parish 
in  every  six  affords,  unmercifully  beating  a  defenceless 
orphan  not  much  more  than  half  his  own  size.  The 
chivalrous  spirit  of  our  hero  would  not  brook  this  ;  so, 
throwing  down  his  hat,  he  gave  him  ''  a  chattering  facer," 
the  term,  as  his  preceptor  Jem  informed  him,  for  a  heavy 
thump  on  the  mouth,  and  instantly  put  himself  "  into 
attitude."  Eagamuffin  did  the  same,  when  a  smart  round 
ensued,  rather  in  his  favour ;  but  the  young  one  was  no- 
wise daunted.  The  old  blood  of  the  Rabys  warmed  in 
his  young  veins  at  every  blow,  and  he  said  to  himself, 
"  I'll  lick  this  snob,  or  die."  Presently  the  whole  village 
became  alarmed  for  the  safety  of  Master  Francis.  Out 
ran  the  apothecary  from  his  house,  and  the  mother  of  one 
of  the  Amstead  housemaids  from  hers,  both  insisting  on 
some  of  the  lookers-on  interfering,  and  j)utting  an  end  to 
the  fight.  It  happened,  however,  that  the  coachman  had 
walked  down  to  the  village  with  his  young  master,  and 
he  stoutly  asserted  that  Master  Francis  was  "all  right. 
He'll  leather  two  such  chaps  as  that,"  said  coachey,  "  and 
I'll  go  and  see  fair  play."  The  result  was  thus  : — In  the 
fifth  round,  the  young  one  hit  his  opponent  such  a  smasher 
in  his  teeth,  that  he  turned  cur  and  ran  off,  amidst  the 
hootings  of  all  present  ;  thus  verifying  the  maxim,  that 
"thrice  is  he  armed  who  hath  his  quarrel  just."  Even 
the  magpie  in  the  cage  chattered,  as  if  exulting  to  see 
justice  so  summarily  olDtained  for  a  poor  orphan  lad. 

"  Come  into  my  house.  Master  Francis,"  said  the  doctor, 
"that  I  may  see  what  injury  you  have  sustained.  Here 
is  a  blow  over  the  left  eye  to  begin  with,  and  it  will  be 
black  in  a  few  hours  ;  what  will  your  mamma  say  1 " 
"Oh!"  said  the  coachman,  "he  can  tell  my  lady  that 
Rodney  (the  pony)  threw  up  his  head,  and  struck  him  on 
the  face  ;  she  won't  know  no  better."  "  But  your  thumb. 
Master  Francis,  you  have  cut  it  rather  deep,  by  a  blow 
against  one  of  the  young  rascal's  teeth,"  resumed  the 
doctor.  "  Oh  !  "  observed  coachey,  "  that  will  be  soon 
settled  ;  he  can  tell  my  lady  he  took  a  shot  at  a  rook  out 
of  Jem  Perren's  gun,  and  that  it  was  too  high  loaded,  and 
hit  him  a  hard  blow  on  his  hand.  Besides,  from  what  I 
know  of  my  lady,  dash  me  if  I  don't  think  she'd  like 
to  know  how  young  master  served  out  that  cowardly 
scoundrel,  for  she  once  stopped  the  carriage  on  purpose 
to  give  the  poor  orphan  he  had  been  beating  a  shilling, 


THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN  19 

and  she  has  twice  had  him  clothed.  You  know,  doctor, 
his  father  worked  in  her  flower-garden."  "  But  the  tutor, 
Master  Francis  ?  "  continued  Esculapius.  "  Oh,  bother 
the  tutor  !  "  replied  the  coachman  ;  "  they  tells  me  he 
is  a  great  scholard,  but  he's  as  soft  as  a  pat  of  butter  ; 
Master  Francis  can  soon  gammon  him-,  as  he  has  often 
done  before.  And  as  to  master,  I  know  what  he  will 
say  :  '  Never  let  a  horse  hit  you  in  your  face  with  his 
head,  Frank  ;  it  is  a  symptom  of  bad  horsemanship. 
When  a  horse  plunges,  or  rears,  always  keep  your  head 
and  person  a  little  inclined  to  the  left  side  of  him,  and 
then,  should  he  lose  his  balance,  and  fall  backward,  you 
slip  off  before  he  comes  to  the  ground.'  I  heard  him  say 
those  very  words  to  Master  Raby  the  other  day."  Here 
the  coachman  and  his  young  master  took  their  departure 
homeward,  the  former  repeating  his  lesson,  and  assuring 
Frank,  at  the  same  time,  that  if  he  would  come  into  the 
servants'  hall  before  he  went  to  bed,  he  would  clap  a  raw 
beef-steak  to  his  face,  as  the  fighting-men  do,  which  would 
take  out  all  the  blackness  by  the  morrow. 

The  hour  of  dessert  having  arrived,  in  walked  Master 
Francis  with  his  brother  and  two  sisters,  looking  as 
demure  as  a  saint.  "  "What  have  you  done  to  your  face, 
my  dear  ? "  inquired  Lady  Charlotte  ;  "  it  is  much  swollen 
above  your  left  eye."  "  Rodney  threw  up  his  head 
with  me  this  morning,  mamma,  and  struck  me  in  the 
face,"  was  his  rejDly.  "  Oh,  Frank  I  "  said  Mr.  Raby, 
"how  could  you  let  him  do  that?  A  good  horseman 
never  suffers  from  such  an  accident.  Should  his  horse 
begin  to  play  tricks,  he  always  keeps  his  own  head 
inclined  towards  the  left,  and  then  he  cannot  be  struck 
as  you  have  been.  I  have  known  instances  of  persons 
having  nearly  every  tooth  knocked  out  by  blows  from 
horses'  heads."  Frank  said  nothing,  but  refused  to  eat  an 
orange,  until  twice  asked  to  do  so.  As  he  was  peeling  it, 
the  wound  on  his  hand  appeared.  "Why,  Frank,"  ex- 
claimed Lady  Charlotte,  "  you  have  been  in  perils  to-day  ; 
did  Rodney  throw  you  ? "  "  No,  mamma,"  he  replied,  "  I 
was  taking  a  shot  at  a  rook  out  of  Jem's  gun,  and  it  was 
loaded  so  high  that  it  struck  me  on  my  hand.  But  it  will 
soon  be  well,  and  coachman  says  if  I  come  to  him  before 
I  go  to  bed  to-night,  he  will  do  for  me  what  the  boxers 
do  —  clap  a  raw  beef-steak  under  my  night-cap,  and  I 
shall  have  no  black  eye  to-morrow.""    "  Nasty  fellow  !  " 


20         THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN 

exclaimed  Lady  Charlotte  ;  "  I  insist  upon  it,  lie  does  no 
such  thing.  What  could  put  it  into  the  man's  head  to 
doctor  my  children  1 "  Frank  was  again  silent,  when  he 
was  at  length  addressed  by  the  tutor,  in  rather  a  grave 
tone.  "  If  you  had  remained  at  home  this  morning, 
Frank,  and  done  what  I  wished  you — translated  that 
chapter  in  Aurelius,  Be  viris  illustribus,  and  finished  your 
exercise  on  the  battle  of  Pharsalia,  you  would  not  have 
met  with  these  disasters,  but  would  have  been  able  to  have 
taken  the  field  with  the  harriers  to-morrow,  whereas  you 
will  now  be  obliged  to  remain  at  home,  as  I  fear  not  even 
the  raw  beef-steak  would  have  prevented  your  having  a 
black  eye,  in  which  case  you  could  not,  of  course,  appear 
abroad."  At  the  mention  of  the  word  battle,  the  blood 
rushed  to  Frank's  face,  conceiving  that  the  "murder  was 
out ; "  but  such  was  not  the  case.  Contrary  to  expecta- 
tion, the  doctor  did  not  blah,  and  the  event  of  the  fight 
never  reached  beyond  the  walls  of  the  servants'  hall  of 
the  Abbey,  although  it  was  widely  spread  among  the 
surrounding  villagers,  who  were  loud  in  their  praises  of 
the  young  Dares. 

Mr.  Egerton,  the  tutor,  was  one  of  those  old-fashioned 
clergymen  of  the  Church  of  England,  once  so  highly 
looked  up  to  by  the  people,  but  now  supplanted,  in  too 
many  instances,  by  a  new-fashioned  sort,  who,  by  preach- 
ing for  an  hour  or  more  on  subjects  which  their  hearers 
do  not  understand,  and  too  often  creating  doubts  which 
they  cannot  themselves  remove,  drive  thousands  from 
their  churches  to  seek  for  instruction  elsewhere. 

He  was  old-fashioned  enough  to  consider  the  true  philo- 
sophy of  life,  as  well  as  the  duty  of  his  profession,  to 
consist  in  endeavouring  to  assuage  the  evils  of  human 
nature  by  any  means,  provided  they  war  not  against  the 
soul.  Fanaticism,  with  its  long  train  of  gloomy  terrors, 
he  left  to  those  who  practised  it,  and  was  inclined  even 
to  think,  with  Lord  Shaftesbury,  that  gravity  is  too  often 
but  another  word  for  imposture.  He  considered  that  we 
are  entitled  to  enjoy  the  good  things  of  this  life  when 
honestly  procured,  and  that  it  were  the  height  of  in- 
gratitude not  to  taste  with  satisfaction  the  liberal  bounty 
of  Providence.  All  he  insisted  upon  was — that  when  our 
wishes  are  gratified,  and  the  cup  of  fortune  full,  we 
should  not  drink  it  to  the  dregs. 

Having  said  this,  it  is  almost  needless  to  add,  that  Mr. 


THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN  21 

Egerton  entered  fully  into  the  pleasures  and  amusements 
of  Amstead  Abljey,  to  the  society  of  which,  by  his  many 
agreeable  accomplishments,  he  was  no  small  acquisition. 
Tliere  was,  however,  one  species  of  amusement  in  which 
he  did  not  often  participate  ;  he  rarely  hunted,  not  that 
he  thought  it  unbecoming  his  clerical  situation,  but  be- 
cause he  was  so  bad  a  horseman  that  he  feared  he  might 
break  his  neck.  Neither  was  he  ever  seen  with  a  gun  in 
his  hand,  the  reason  for  which  was  a  ludicrous  one.  On 
being  asked  by  a  visitor  to  Mr.  Raby,  why  he  did  not 
join  "the  sliooting  party  of  that  morning,  lie  accounted 
for  it  in  the  following  words  : — "  I  was  once,'"'  said  he, 
"  inclined  to  the  sport  of  the  gun,  but  a  circumstance 
that  had  nearly  been  attended  with  consequences  which 
would  have  rendered  me  miserable  for  life,  determined 
me  to  abandon  it.  My  sight  is  imperfect ;  that  is  to  say, 
I  am,  what  is  called,  near-sighted  ;  and  being  once  in  a 
wood  with  my  gun,  I  espied  what  I  took  to  be  a  fine  full- 
grown  black  rabbit,  under  a  furze-bush.  I  fired  at,  and, 
thank  God,  missed  it,  for  it  proved  to  be  the  head  of  the 
most  intimate  friend  of  my  youth,  who  had  laid  himself 
at  full  length  on  the  ground,  to  enable  him  to  get  a  shot 
at  a  hare.  The  shock  to  my  nerves  was  so  great,  that,  to 
this  day,  the  report  of  a  gun  brings  instantly  to  my  mind 
the  head  of  my  friend  under  the  furze-bush." 

Although  no  sportsman,  as  far  as  horses  and  guns  were 
concerned,  Mr.  Egerton  had  other  ways  of  amusing  him- 
self abroad.  He  was  an  excellent  fisherman,  considering 
the  disciple  of  the  angle,  probably,  as  pursuing  an  aposto- 
lical recreation,  which,  I  believe,  Izaak  Walton  did  before 
him.  He  was,  also,  a  musician,  playing  beautifully  on 
the  violoncello  and  the  flute.  But  his  summum  bonurn, 
in  the  way  of  indoor  amusement,  was  a  rubber  at  whist, 
at  which  he  was  truly  a  trump.  In  fact,  whoever  got  the 
parson  for  a  partner,  considered  him  worth  one  point  in 
the  game,  and  half  a  crown  would  now  and  then  be  ven- 
tured on  the  rubber,  on  the  strength  of  his  fine  play.  But, 
notwithstanding  these  recreations,  in  which  Mr.  Egerton 
freely  indulged  himself,  at  proper  times  and  seasons,  no  man 
could  have  performed  his  twofold  duties  more  sedulously 
than  he  discharged  his.  In  the  preparation  of  his  two 
pupils  for  Eton,  he  succeeded  eminently,  and  in  his 
calling,  as  curate  of  the  parish,  he  gave  universal  satis- 
faction both  in  and  out  of  church. 


22  THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN 


CHAPTER    II 

The  first  great  step  in  tlie  life  of  our  "  Sportsmau  :  "  lie  is  entered 
to  hare. — The  Chapter  concludes  with  many  choice  Aphorisms 
concerning  the  Xoble  Science,  and  sundry  anecdotes,  worthy 
being  recorded  in  letters  of  gold. 

'•  T\7'B^^'^  ^^  ^^  ^^  done  to-morrow,"  said  Mr.  Egerton 
T  T  to  his  pupils  in  the  evening,  ''  as  Lady  Charlotte 
has  asked  for  a  holiday  ?"  -'/  shalfAiai^,''  exclaimed  our 
hero,  his  eyes  brightening  with  delight  ;  and  he  was  out 
of  the  room,  to  give  orders  for  Rodney  to  have  no  water 
in  the  morning,  before  his  brother  had  returned  an 
answer  to  the  question.  "  I  shall  walk  to  the  rectory," 
said  Andrew  ;  '•  I  promised  the  Miss  Chapmans  I  would 
bring  them  the  books  my  uncle  sent  me  last  week  from 
London,  and  they  are  very  anxious  to  read  them." 
"  There  is  no  disputing  about  tastes,"  observed  the  tutor, 
addressing  our  young  sportsman,  on  his  return  to  the 
drawing-room,  and  hinting  that  he  should  not  let  Rodney 
give  him  another  black  eye,  as  nothing  had  so  ungentle- 
manlike  an  appearance.  "  Besides,"  continued  he,  "  it 
savours  of  awkward  horsemanship,  in  which,  as  you  seem 
bent  on  being  a  fox-hunter,  some  day  or  another,  you 
ought  to  endeavour  to  excel.  Indeed,  all  gentlemen 
should  ride  well  ;  and  you  will  remember  my  telling  you 
that,  in  the  letters  of  Lord  Chesterfield  to  his  son,  and  of 
Lord  Chatham  to  his  nephew,  it  is  insisted  upon,  as  part 
of  their  education,  to  enable  them  to  make  a  good  appear- 
ance in  the  world,  as  Horace  had  insisted  before  them,  in 
his  advice  to  youth.  You  also  remember  my  drawing 
your  notice  to  several  passages  in  history,  in  which  the 
accomplishment  of  riding  well  is  either  pointed  out,  or 
boasted  of,  by  still  greater  men.  Hannibal,  for  example, 
is  said  to  have  differed  in  nothing  in  his  appearance  from 
the  ordinary  men  of  his  day,  unless  in  the  peculiar 
neatness  and  elegance  of  his  horses  and  their  furniture, 
and  likewise  his  seat  in  the  saddle  ;  and  it  was  only 
yesterday  that  your  brother  was  reading  of  Cicero,  who, 
addressing  his  son  Marcus,  told  him  that,  as  the  eyes  of 
the  world  would  be  upon  him,  on  account  of  his  fathers 
fame,  he  was  delighted  to  hear  that  he  had  received  the 
praise  of  all  the  army  for  his  excellence  in  riding." 


THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN  23 

"  I  hunt  with  you  to-morrow,  papa,"  said  Frank  to  his 
father,  as  soon  as  he  had  made  his  escape  from  what  he 
called  "  Egerton's  botheration  about  Hannibal  and  Cicero." 
"  I  hope  we  shall  find  as  good  a  buck  hare  as  that  which 
Mr.  Gibbon's  shepherd  soho'd  for  us  the  last  time  we  met 
at  the  same  place."  "  Frank,"  said  Mr.  Kaby,  "  I  must 
now  be  your  tutor,  and,  in  this  instance,  can  do  more  for 
you  than  Mr.  Egerton.  You  have  made  use  of  two  terras 
not  used  in  hare-hunting,  and  it  becomes  every  person  to 
adapt  their  language  to  their  subject.  A  male  hare,  in 
hunting,  is  called  a  jack  hare  ;  and  the  word  tan-ta-ra, 
not  soho,  denotes  one  espied  in  its  form.  The  terms  you 
have  applied  are  peculiar  to  coursing." 

About  a  mile  from  the  place  of  meeting  Frank  over- 
takes the  hounds,  and  the  following  interesting  colloquy 
occurs  : — 

Huntsman  (touching  his  cap). — "Good  morning,  Master 
Francis  ;  glad  to  see  you  out,  sir.  Eodney  looks  in  high 
feather  ;  you'll  beat  us  all  to-day." 

Frank. — "  No,  Dick  ;  there  is  no  beating  you  on  old 
Clodhopper,  with  his  ugly  lop  ears.  How  you  set  them 
all  the  last  time,  over  the  Barnsly  brook  !  " 

Dick  (smiling). — "  Well,  sir  ;  but  you  saw  a  good  deal 
of  the  run ;  now  can  you  give  us  any  account  of  it  ?  for 
I  sadly  want  to  make  yoic  a  sportsman.  As  for  Master 
Kaby,  it's  no  use  thinking  of  him  :  he's  so  terribly  fond 
of  books,  flowers,  pictures,  and  such-like  trumpery,  that 
he  takes  no  delight  in  field  sports.  Then,  again,  that 
tutor  does  him  no  good,  making  him  believe  he  is  to  be 
a  great  scholard  and  a  parliament  man  at  last.  For  my 
part,  I  don't  like  those  parliament  gentlemen.  I  lived 
with  one  once  ;  and  just  as  the  best  part  of  the  hunting 
began — about  a  month  after  Christmas,  when  we  had 
such  large  fields  that  I  sometimes  got  a  hat  full  of  half- 
crowns  after  a  good  run — away  went  he  to  parliament, 
and  away  went  half  my  field  as  well." 

Frank. — "  I  had  rather  be  a  master  of  foxhounds,  than 
member  for  the  county,  Dick — would  not  you?  And, 
Dick,  why  does  not  papa  keep  foxhounds  instead  of  these 
harriers  ?  They  tell  me  that  six  more  horses,  and  a  few 
more  couples  of  hounds  than  he  now  has,  would  do  ; 
and  I  am  sure  you  could  hunt  fox  as  well  as  you  do 
hare." 

Dick. — "Your  papa   will  never  keep  foxhounds,   sir. 


24         THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN 

He  is  the  best  master  of  harriers  this  day  in  England, 
but  don't  take  delight  in  fox-hunting.  Then,  again,  sir, 
5^ou  are  wrong  about  thinking  I  could  hunt  fox  as  well 
as  I  do  hare.  When  you  turns  fox-hunter,  which  no 
doubt  you  will  do  when  you  gets  to  the  University, 
you'll  see  there  is  a  great  difference  in  the  systems  pursued 
with  foxhounds  and  harriers  ;  and  that  which  is  good 
in  one,  is  bad  in  another,  although  not  to  the  extent  that 
some  people  thinks.  I  happened  to  overhear  one  of  our 
gentlemen  telling  how  Dick  Knight  lost  his  fox  the  other 
day  with  the  Pytchley  hounds — '  at  least,'  said  he,  '  so 
thought  Mr.  Alcock.'  'Mr.  Alcock,'  said  one  of  them, 
'  what  does  that  old  thistle-whiijper  know  about  hunting  ? ' 
Now  that  is  going  too  far ;  for,  in  my  opinion,  an  old 
thistle-whipper  must  know  a  great  deal  more  of  hunting 
than  a  young  fox-hunter  is  likely  to  do.  But,  Master 
Francis,  can  you  give  me  any  account  of  the  last  run  you 
saw,  in  which  there  was  a  good  deal  to  notice  ?  " 

Frank. — "  Why,  you  know,  Dick,  I  was  behind  a  bit  at 
starting,  because  I  could  not  go  fast  enough  the  first  ten 
minutes  ;  but  I  said  to  myself,  I  shouldn't  wonder  if  they 
come  to  a  check  at  that  large  flock  of  sheep  on  the  turnips, 
which  they  did,  and  I  then  got  up  to  you.  But  I  think 
I  should  have  been  with  you  all  the  way  had  it  not  been 
for  that  nasty  oak  stile,  which  my  father  would  not  let 
me  ride  at,  and  took  me  out  of  the  line  to  a  gate.  I  am 
certain  Rodney  would  have  cleared  it,  for  I  rode  him 
over  a  higher  than  that,  one  day,  after  you,  on  Carpenter, 
when  papa  was  not  out — but  I  was  deuced  nearly  oflF, 
Dick." 

Dick. — "  Don't  ride  at  timber.  Master  Francis — you  are 
too  young  for  that  yet ;  and,  if  you  get  a  squeezer  at  it, 
it  may  daunt  you.  I  have  had  some  terrible  falls  over 
timber,  and  was  twice  picked  up  for  dead." 

Frank. — "  But  about  the  run  !  I  saw  how  you  hit  off 
vour  hare,  when  the  hounds  were  checked  by  the  sheep. 
You  stood  stock-still  whilst  the  hounds  made  their  cast ; 
but  finding  that  neither  Bellman,  Bounty,  nor  Tyrant 
gave  tongue,  and  that  some  of  the  others  had  their  noses 
off  the  ground,  you  gave  a  blast  with  your  horn,  made 
something  like  a  circle  in  a  trot,  when  old  Bounty  hit  off 
the  scent,  and  we  went  on." 

Dick.— ''It  was  Bellman,  Master  Francis;  but  the 
brother  and  sister  are  so  alike,  that  I  scarcely  know  one 


THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN  25 

from   t'other  myself.     That  is  not  a  bad   hit  of  yours, 
however,  sir.     Youll  do  in  time." 

Frank. — "But,  Dick,  what  a  head  they  carried  over 
Groseby  field.  As  the  leaps  were  not  too  much  for 
Rodney,  I  was  pretty  near  you — was  I  not,  Will  ?  (ad- 
dressing himself  to  the  whipper-in).  And  I  saw  that 
young  bitch.  Melody,  that  papa  is  so  fond  of,  guiding 
the  scent  for  at  least  half  a  mile.  He  declares  he  would 
not  take  ten  pounds  for  her." 

Dick. — "  I  would  not  take  half  that  sum  for  her  myself, 
sir.  She  is  by  the  old  Duke  of  Grafton's  Tyrant,  out  of 
our  old  Melody,  and  has  all  the  good  qualities  of  a  fox- 
hound with  those  of  the  harrier.  But,  Master  Francis, 
who  told  you  about  a  hound  '  guiding  the  scent  ? '  It's  a 
monstrous  good  notion,  but  we  always  say  'guiding  the 
'pack.^ " 

Frank. — "It  is  what  Mr.  Egerton  calls  'a  figure  of 
speech,'  Dick." 

Dick. — "  Ah  !  sir,  see  what  it  is  not  to  have  had  a 
larning  !  I  shall  never  talk  again  about  a  hound  guiding 
the  pack,  as  I  am  all  for  a  bit  of  novelty  in  my  trade 
when  I  can  get  it.  And  I  see  no  reason  why  hare-hunting 
should  remain  where  my  grandfather  left  it,  when,  as 
Squire  Talbot  says,  the  hares  never  went  out  of  their  OM-n 
parishes." 

Frank. — "  Mr.  Egerton  says  there  has  been  a  great  deal 
written  about  hunting  hares,  which  I  shall  know  when 
I  come  to  read  Greek.  One  Xenophon,  he  says,  wrote 
about  it  more  than  2000  years  ago;  and  another  Greek 
writer,  called  Homer,  compared  hounds  running  a  hare 
through  thick  woods,  to  two  great  warriors  pursuing  an 
enemy  by  night." 

Dick.—''  I  don't  doubt  it,  sir.  That  Mr.  Egerton  is  a 
clever  gentleman ;  I  wish  he  would  come  a-hunting,  as, 
perhaps,  he  might  write  something  about  it,  for  I  don't 
know  of  anyone  having  done  so  since  the  two  gentlemen 
you  have  just  mentioned,  and  it  is  but  few  that  could  read 
what  they  have  said." 

Our  hero  was  on  the  point  of  joining  with  the  huntsman 
in  the  wish  that  his  tutor  would  take  the  field,  when  Mr. 
Raby  and  the  rest  of  the  party  came  up,  and  orders  were 
given  to  draw  for  a  hare,  in  a  fallow  adjoining  the  road, 
which  having  been  long  ploughed,  was  considered  likely 
to  produce   one.     It  did   so;  a  brilliant  burst  was  the 


26         THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN 

result ;  and,  at  the  end  of  thirty-two  minutes,  Dick  had 
her  in  his  hand,  as  stiff  as  if  she  had  been  six  years  in  a 
museum.  Another  run  followed,  in  which  some  fine 
hunting  was  displayed  ;  and  Mr,  Eaby  and  his  friends 
returned  to  the  Abbey,  well  satisfied  with  their  sport, 
and  with  a  good  appetite  for  their  dinner. 

During  the  interval  between  the  two  runs,  which  was 
not  a  very  short  one — for  hares  were  not  abundant  in 
those  days — Frank  was  seen  in  earnest  conversation  with 
a  well-mounted  gentleman,  a  stranger  to  Mr.  Kaby  and 
his  friends,  who  attracted  everyone's  notice  by  the  masterly 
manner  in  which  he  rode,  and  the  attention  he  paid  to 
the  hunting  of  this  celebrated  pack  of  harriers.  "  I  have 
hunted  in  all  our  best  counties,"  said  he  to  his  friend, 
and  this  in  the  hearing  of  our  young  sportsman,  "and 
chiefly  in  the  crack  county  of  all — in  Leicestershire  ;  but 
I  never  saw  more  beautiful  hunting  than  these  hounds 
have  this  day  shown.  I  have  not  only  admired  them 
when  in  difficulties,  in  which  I  must  say  they  were  ably 
assisted  by  their  huntsman,  but  the  head  they  carried  in 
chase  surprised  me  ;  surely  Mr.  Eaby  must  breed  a  great 
number  of  hounds,  to  be  able  to  top  and  tail  them  to  their 
present  perfection  ;  for  there  does  not  appear  to  be  half 
an  inch  of  difference  in  their  height,  not  more  than  a 
yard  or  two  in  speed.  Then  what  beautifully  formed 
animals  they  are,  and  how  light  yet  musical  are  their 
tongues  :  in  fact,  how  unlike  the  heavy,  throaty,  long- 
eared,  bow-wowing  brutes  that  I  have  seen  in  other 
countries.  I  really  think  that  if  I  lived  near  them, — 
devoted  as  I  have  been  all  my  life  to  foxhounds,  and 
prone  to  despise  harriers, — I  should  hunt  with  them  at 
least  once  a  week." 

These  were  honeyed  words  to  the  ears  of  Frank  Raby, 
who  repeated  them  with  much  delight  to  his  father  on 
their  road  home  ;  and  it  was  also  in  his  power  to  inform 
him  where  this  lion,  in  his  eyes,  was  domiciled,  which 
happened  to  be  at  the  mansion  of  an  intimate,  but  non- 
hunting  friend.  "  Ah  !  "  said  Mr.  Raby,  on  the  last-named 
circumstance  being  made  known  to  him,  "then  we  shall 
see  him  at  the  Abbey  on  Saturday,  if  he  remains  so  long 
on  his  visit  to  Sir  William,  as  the  baronet  and  his  party 
dine  with  us  on  that  day."  "  Oh  !  papa,"  observed  Frank, 
"  how  glad  I  am  to  know  that !  we  shall  hear  all  about 
Leicestershire  hunting,  which  is  the  best  in  all  the  world. 


THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN  27 

I  believe  ;  but  will  you  promise  not  to  begin  upon  it  with 
him  until  we  come  in  to  dessert?"  Mr.  Raby  smiled, 
and  said  nothing  ;  but  doubtless  his  heart  responded  to 
the  call  of  his  favourite  son. 

One  of  the  leading  characteristics  of  a  young  sportsman 
is  the  pursuit  of  all  animals  which  come  under  the  de- 
nomination of  vermin  ;  and,  indeed,  for  the  preservation 
of  game,  poultry,  and  many  other  things,  the  destruction 
of  them,  as  of  many  of  the  feathered  race,  is  necessary. 
There  is,  however,  one  animal  included  in  this  list,  which, 
as  far  as  the  evils  of  his  ways  are  taken  into  account,  is 
entitled  to  an  exemption,  for  they  are  few,  if  any.  Thi& 
animal  is  the  badger,  neither  a  depredator  nor  a  thief  ; 
but  subsisting  chiefly  on  pig  nuts,  beech  mast,  and  roots  ; 
in  fact,  on  anything  that  pigs  eat  in  the  woods  ;  and, 
moreover,  of  service  to  the  sportsman,  by  drawing  earths 
for  foxes,  although  he  sometimes,  by  making  tliem  too 
strong,  increases  the  expense  of  stopping.  The  badger, 
however,  possesses  two  very  extraordinary  properties — 
the  prodigious  strength  of  his  nose  in  burrowing,  and  the 
ferocity  with  which  he  defends  himself  when  attacked  by 
dogs.  Drawing  badgers  from  their  burrows  is  one  test 
of  courage,  or  pluck,  in  terriers,  and  dogs  of  that  descrip- 
tion, for  which  purpose  many  are  kept,  to  the  discredit  of 
those  who  keep  them. 

"What  have  you  been  doing  to-day,  Francis  ?"  inquired 
Mr.  Egerton,  on  the  morrow  after  the  hare  hunt.  "  I 
saw  you  coming  to  the  house  with  Jem  Perren,  who  was 
carrying  something  in  a  bag."  "We  had  been  drawing 
a  badger,  sir,  in  the  big  wood,  and  you  would  have  been 
pleased  to  see  how  well  Pickle  and  Vixen  behaved." 
"  Indeed,"  replied  Mr.  Egerton,  "  I  should  not.  It  would 
have  afforded  me  no  pleasure  to  have  seen  animals  tor- 
menting each  other  for  your  pleasure,  and  merely  that 
you  might  get  possession  of  a  worthless,  |though  harmless 
creature."  "Not  worthless,  sir,"  resumed  Frank;  "we 
mean  to  have  a  burrow  made  for  him  to  enter  the  young 
terriers  at  him,  for  Jem  Perren  thinks  those  out  of  Trinket 
are  not  thorough-bred  by  the  father's  side."  "Indeed, 
Francis,"  exclaimed  the  tutor,  "  you  shall  do  no  such 
thing  ;  at  least  with  my  knowledge.  You  have  signalized 
yourself,  in  your  own  estimation,  by  having  drawn  a  wild 
badger  from  his  burrow,  which,  no  doubt,  you  think  much 
of  ;  but  let  once  doing  so  suflice.     I  shall  walk  with  you 


28  THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN 

to-morrow  to  the  big  wood,  and  see 'you  replace  the  poor 
animal  in  his  burrow." 

In  the  hilarity  of  youthful  spirits,  this  interference 
had  no  further  effect  on  our  young  sportsman  than  to 
damp  his  ardour,  for  the  moment,  in  a  pursuit  in  which 
he  had  just  commenced  with  such  success,  and  he  walked 
away  with  a  somewhat  sullen  stej),  to  communicate  the  sad 
tidings  to  Jem  Perren,  "  Bless  me,"  said  Jem  ;  "  I  wish 
that  parson  was  in  the  ftlace  he  talks  so  much  about  in 
church  ;  he'll  be  the  ruin  of  you.  Master  Francis.  I 
heard  my  father  say,  the  other  day,  that  he  scolded  him 
for  shooting  jays,  although  the  gardener  says  they  play 
the  deuce  with  the  raspberries  and  cherries,  and  you  know 
my  father  wants  the  feathers  for  fly-fishing."  "Ay," 
resumed  Frank;  "but  never  mind,  Jem;  we  go  to 
Eton  after  mid-summer,  and  then  we  shall  get  rid  of 
his  botheration,  and  shall  be  our  own  masters  in  the 
holidays." 

Saturday  arrived  :  and  the  family  at  the  Grange  came 
to  the  Abbey  to  dinner,  and,  with  them,  the  "  lion  "  out 
of  Leicestershire,  whose  name  was  Somerby,  from  whose 
conversation  with  his  father  Frank  Raby  anticipated  a 
great  treat.  Neither  was  it  anything  short  of  a  treat  to  the 
father  himself,  to  contribute  to  the  delight  of  his  favourite 
son,  and,  according  to  promise,  he  waited  his  coming  to 
dessert  before  the  subject  of  hunting  in  Leicestershire 
commenced.     We  will  give  it  in  detail. 

Mr.  Raby. — "Were  I  a  fox-hunter,  Mr.  Somerby,  I 
should  envy  you  who  make  Leicestershire  your  domicile." 

Mr.  Somerby. — "  It  is,  without  doubt,  the  county  of  all 
others  in  which  a  man  mav  get  the  most  hunting." 

Mr.  Rahy.— ''And  the  best." 

Mr.  Somerby. — "  That  depends  on  circumstances.  It  is 
a  mistaken  notion  that  a  good  country  alone  can  make 
good  hounds,  or  that  Leicestershire  has  that  peculiar 
privilege." 

Mr.  Raby. — "  I  always  thought  that  Leicestershire  was 
a  county  in  which  hounds  had  less  difficulty  to  encounter 
than  in  any  other  ;  and  that  with  a  good  scent,  you  are 
almost  sure  to  have  sport,  even  if  you  do  not  kill  your 
fox.  By  the  term  '  Leicestershire,'  I  mean  the  whole 
extent  of  country  within  reach  of  Melton  Mowbray." 

Mr.  Somerby.— ''Yon  have  been  misinformed  on  these 
subjects,  Mr.  Raby.     It  is  true  there  are  extensive  tracts 


THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN  29 

in  the  counties  of  Leicester,  Rutland,  and  Northampton, 
extremely  favourable  to  hounds,  from  the  great  prevalence 
of  land  which  has  been  under  grass  beyond  the  memory 
of  man  ;  as,  likewise,  from  the  prevalence  of  large  en- 
closures, which  often  contain  forty  acres,  and  occasionally 
double  that  number ;  but  here  exists  one  difficulty.  Head- 
lands and  hedgerows  are  good  friends  to  huntsmen  when 
their  hounds  are  off  the  scent :  indeed,  they  may  be  said 
then  to  act  as  guide-posts  ;  but  let  hounds  throw  up  in  the 
middle  of  a  fifty-acre  piece,  and  require  their  huntsman  to 
direct  them,  the  guide-post  is  not  so  readily  at  his  hand 
as  in  counties  where  the  enclosures  are  much  smaller. 
Should  he  fail  to  find  the  chase  on  one  side  of  his 
ground,  having,  of  course,  ascertained  that  it  is  not  on 
ahead,  he  has  a  long  way  to  travel  for  it  to  the  other, 
whilst  his  fox  is  taking  advantage  of  the  delay,  and 
making  the  best  of  his  road  to  his  point.  Then,  again, 
another  circumstance  operates  against  hounds  in  these 
champaign  counties,  which  is  peculiar  to  them.  From 
the  luxuriance  of  the  herbage  in  summer,  enough  remains 
in  winter  to  maintain  store  stock  ;  and  herds  of  cattle  and 
flocks  of  sheep  abound  in  them.  Scarcely  a  run  is  seen  in 
which  hounds  are  not  brought  to  check,  from  encountering 
one  or  other  of  those  obstacles  ;  and,  although  not  gener- 
ally so  considered,  the  stain  from  cattle  is  worse  than  that 
from  sheep.  Cattle  are  also  more  perplexing  on  another 
account ;  sheep  will  stand  still  and  confront  hounds  ;  but 
cattle  will  keep  going  on,  to  the  great  disturbance  of 
hounds  in  their  work,  and  often  on  the  very  line  of  scent. 
Then,  again,  there  is  much  variety  of  stcqjle  in  the  land  of 
the  counties  in  which  we  are  now  speaking.  It  is  fre- 
quently our  lot  to  commence  a  run  in  a  fine  champaign 
grazing  country,  extremely  favourable  to  hounds — and  to 
finish  it  over  cold  ploughed  land,  incapable  of  holding  a 
scent  beyond  a  j^assing  moment — this,  too,  at  a  time  when 
every  advantage  is  required.  We  have  likewise,  occasion- 
ally, a  great  many  horsemen  in  the  field,  some  of  whom 
think  more  of  riding  than  of  hunting,  and  press  on 
hounds  at  the  most  difficult  points  of  the  chase." 

Mr.  Rahy. — "  But  Sir  William  informs  me  you  have 
had  a  capital  season's  sport  up  to  this  period." 

Mr.  Somerhy. — "  Why,  Mr.  Raby,  notwithstanding  these 
difficulties,  no  country  under  the  sun  shows  such  fine 
runs  as  that  called  Leicestershire  does  ;  nor  such  exquisite 


30  THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN 

enjovment  of  tliem,  from  the  peculiar  nature  and  disposition 
of  it.  Indeed,  a  friend  of  mine  says  that  the  very  act  of 
riding  to  cover  over  Leicestershire,  on  a  hunter,  is  nearly 
equal  to  following  hounds  in  a  run  over  a  great  many  of 
the  provincial  countries.  But  that  I  should  have  had  a 
good  season's  sjDort  up  to  this  period,  and  especially  as  the 
weather  has  been  so  favourable  to  it,  is  not  in  the  least  to 
be  wondered  at,  when  I  say  that  I  have  generally  hunted 
with  the  hounds  of  the  first  sportsman  that  England  has 
hitherto  seen.'' 

Mr.  Baby. — "  Of  course  you  mean  Mr.  Meynell,  who 
hunts  what  is  called  the  Quorndon,  or  Quorn  country, 
whom  I  have  heard  so  much  of,  but  never  had  the 
pleasure  of  seeing.  Perhaps  you  will  favour  me  with  a 
description  of  his  person  and  character,  which,  as  I 
understand  you  have  long  enjoyed  his  friendship  and 
confidence,  you  must  be  well  qualified  to  do  ;  but,  in  the 
mean  time,  if  you  please,  we  will  drink  '  Success  to  fox- 
hunting,' in  a  bumper.  Although  no  fox-hunter  myself, 
I  heartily  wish  it  success.  It  is  a  manly,  fine  exercise, 
affording  health  to  the  body,  and  much  matter  for  a 
contemplative  mind.  In  few  situations  of  life,  indeed, 
are  the  faculties  of  man  more  prominently  displayed. 
Fortitude,  good  sense,  and  collectiveness  of  mind,  have  in 
it  a  wide  field  of  action,  and  a  sensible  sportsman  would 
be  a  respectable  character  in  any  grade  of  life." 

Mr.  Sovierhy. —  "  You  have  not  over-rated  the  good  pro- 
perties of  fox-hunting,  and  allow  me  to  add  to  your 
panegyric  upon  it.  In  the  first  place,  where  will  you 
find  better  society  than  by  a  cover-side  in  Leicestershire, 
and  numerous  other  counties  ?  In  the  next,  it  links  all 
classes  together,  from  the  peer  to  the  peasant.  Then, 
again,  it  is  the  Englishman's  peculiar  privilege.  It  is  not  to 
be  found  in  any  other  part  of  the  globe,  but  in  England's 
true  land  of  liberty — and  may  it  flourish  to  the  end  of 
time  I  '  Suc/:ess  to  fox-hunting,'  1  say,  with  all  my  heart, 
and  will  now  comply  with  your  request  : — 

"Mr.  Meynell  is  of  the  middle  height,  of  a  compact 
and  well-proportioned  form ;  with  a  highly  expressive 
countenance,  and  a  very  intellectual  eye.  His  manners 
and  general  deportment  are  those  of  a  man  of  the  highest 
fashion,  and  he  combines  zeal  with  talent,  which  would 
render  him  distinguished  in  any  pursuit  that  might  be 
congenial  to  his  inclination  and  taste.     Fortunately  for 


THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN  31 

fox-hunting,  he  made  that  his  election,  and  although  I 
hope  he  has  not  vet  seen  half  his  days,  he  has  done  more 
for  the  improvement  of  the  science  of  the  chase  than  any 
other  man.  In  fact,  his  opinions  have  already  become 
maxims,  amongst  which  are  the  following  : — 

'Hounds,'  he  says,  'should  combine  strength  with 
beauty,  and  steadiness  with  high  mettle. 

'  Perfection  of  shape  consists  in  short  backs,  open 
bosoms,  straight  legs,  and  compact  feet. 

'  The  first  qualities  of  hounds  are  fine  noses,  docile 
tempers,  steadiness  to  their  game,  and  stoutness  in 
chase. 

'  If  flagrant  propensities  discover  themselves  in  a  young 
hound,  hang  him  at  once. 

'  Walk  your  hounds  amongst  riot  {i.e.  hares  and  deer) 
in  the  summer,  and  hunt  in  woodlands,  in  which  foxes 
are  plenty,  at  least  two  months  before  the  regular  season 
begins. 

'  Perfection  in  hounds  in  chase  lies  in  their  hard  run- 
ning with  a  good  scent,  and  patient  hunting  with  a  bad 
one,  together  with  invincible  stoutness,  when  called  for. 

'  The  greatest  faults  are  skirting,  over-running  the 
scent,  and  babbling.  Never  breed  from  a  hound  that 
quits  the  line  in  chase,  however  good  in  all  other  respects. 
The  fault  will  surely  descend  to  his  or  her  produce. 

'  Do  not  lift  your  hounds  when  they  are  at  fault,  until 
you  are  satisfied  that  they  require  it ;  but  encourage  them 
to  take  pains  ;  and  keep  your  field  aloof,  so  that  the 
steam  from  the  horses  may  not  destroy  the  scent.  Let 
them  be  cast  in  two  lots — the  head  whipper-in  taking 
hold  of  one,  and  the  huntsman  of  the  other. 

'  When  a  fox  breaks  cover,  avoid  too  much  hallooing ; 
it  makes  hounds  wild,  and  often  mars  sport. 

'  The  more  quietly  whippers-in  turn  hounds,  the  better  ; 
if  they  are  too  free  with  their  rating  and  their  whips, 
hounds  will  not  turn  as  short  as  they  should  do,  from 
fear  of  the  lash. 

'  When  hounds  are  going  to  cry,  let  them  be  en- 
couraged, not  driven  to  do  so,  if  it  can  be  avoided.  If 
a  hound  will  not  go  readily  to  cry,  he  had  better  be 
drafted  at  once.  It  is  essential  to  sport  that  hounds 
should  get  quickly  to  cry,  or  a  good  head  cannot  be  carried 
by  them  in  the  burst,  which  renders  it  imperfect,  not- 
withstanding the  pace  may  be  good. 


32  THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN 

'  If  a  fox  hangs  long  in  cover,  leave  him,  rather  than  mob 
him  to  death.  He  may  have  a  reason  for  doing  so,  which 
he  will  sooner  die  for,  than  forego  ;  and  he  may  show 
good  sport  at  another  time. 

'Do  not  think  too  much  about  killing  foxes,  or  of 
"  blood"  as  the  term  is.  The  wildest  packs  of  hounds  have 
been  known  to  kill  the  most  foxes,  by  skirting  and  meeting 
them  in  covers  ;  whilst  they  have  seldom  killed  a  really 
good  fox  in  a  straightforward  run.  Murdering  foxes 
in  covers  is  an  absurd  practice.  Seasoned  foxes  are  as 
essential  to  sport  as  seasoned  hounds. 

'  When  once  you  have  established  a  pack  of  foxhounds, 
— ivhich  it  requires  ten  years  to  do, — be  cautious  of  admitting 
strangers  from  other  packs  amongst  them  during  the  season. 
Hounds  should  be  well  acquainted  with  each  other,  for 
they  look  to  each  other  in  dithculties,  beyond  what  may 
generally  be  imagined.  Hounds  are  jealous  to  a  degree  ; 
and  many,  naturally  steady,  will  be  induced  to  run  riot 
by  one  bad  example,  especially  if  exhibited  by  a  stranger. 
In  short,  one  faulty  hound,  as  well  as  one  injudicious- 
rider,  may  defeat  the  most  promising  prospect  of  sport.' 

"Mr.  Meynell,"  continued  Mr.  Somerby,  "is  eminently 
qualified  to  be  at  the  head  of  such  a  country  as  the  Quorn, 
by  the  command  he  has  acquired  over  his  field,  owing  to- 
the  respect  paid  to  his  character  as  a  sportsman.  He  is- 
often  heard  to  address  them  thus  : — 

'  Nothing  gives  me  more  pleasure,  gentlemen,  than 
seeing  my  hounds  afford  you  good  sport ;  and  nothing 
more  pain,  than  your  marring  it  by  over-riding  them. 
That,  generally,  proceeds  from  jealousy,  which  true 
sportsmen  should  be  superior  to  ;  for  if  you  are  near 
enough  to  see  hounds  do  their  work,  you  ought  to  be- 
satisfied  with  your  place,  and  care  not  who  goes  first. 
Again,  you  should  keep  your  eye  on  the  body  of  the 
hounds,  instead  of  depending  on  two  or  three  which  are 
leading  ;  and  you  should  always  anticipate  a  check,  which 
sheep,  cattle,  teams  at  plough,  arable  land,  or  a  road,  are 
all  likely  to  produce.  Kemember  that  every  check  gives- 
your  fox  an  advantage  over  hounds,  and  that  scent  is  of  a 
fleeting  nature,  soon  lost — never  again  to  be  recovered.' 

"Mr.  Meynell  is  a  bold  and  superior  horseman.  In 
fact,  no  practicable  fence  will  stop  him,  when  his  hounda 
are  running  ;  but  he  takes  no  unnecessary  liberties  with 
his  horses.     His  language  to  his  hounds  is  at  once  emphaticJ 


THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN  33 

and  distinct,  as  well  as  cheerful  and  musical  in  the  ex- 
treme. His  scream,  or  view-halloo,  is,  indeed,  wonderful, 
thrilling  through  the  heart  and  nerves  of  all  who  are 
within  hearing  of  it.  He  is  as  great  a  favourite  with  the 
farmers,  as  he  is  popular  among  his  equals ;  and  he  has 
secured  the  esteem  of  the  former  by  the  following  praise- 
worthy conduct : — Although  he  is  very  punctual  to  his 
time  of  throwing  off,  and  would  not  wait  more  than  ten 
minutes  for  a  duke,  he  will  wait  twenty  for  some  graziers, 
whose  horses  he  sees  at  the  cover's-side,  when  he  knows 
there  is  a  cattle-fair  in  the  neighbourhood,  at  which  their 
presence  is  required.  He  here  shows  that  acuteness  and 
right  judgment  which  are  conspicuous  throughout  his 
entire  character,  and  have  led  to  the  eminence  he  has 
attained,  as  the  master  of  a  pack  of  foxhounds  in  the 
finest  country  in  England." 

3Ir.  Baby. — "  I  am  delighted  with  your  description  of  this 
fine  sportsman  ;  will  you  favour  me  with  some  account  of 
his  establishment  1 " — a  question  suggested  by  Frank,  who 
whispered  in  his  father's  ear  that  he  should  like  to  know 
the  name  of  Mr.  Meynell's  huntsman. 

Mr.  Somerby. — "With  the  greatest  pleasure.  I  shall 
not  feel  weary  of  recapitulating  scenes  and  circumstances 
which  have  ;been,  and  I  hope  will  continue  to  be,  the 
source  of  the  chief  pleasure  of  my  life.  Mr.  Meynell  has 
two  packs  of  hounds  ;  one  called  the  young,  and  the  other 
the  old  pack ;  the  latter  consisting  of  hounds  of  three 
years  old  and  upM^ards,  none  of  two  years  old  being 
admitted  into  it,  unless  a  very  high  ojDinion  be  enter- 
tained of  their  steadiness  and  abilities.  The  young  pack 
are  hunted  twice  a  week,  in  woodlands  as  much  as  possible, 
and  in  the  least  popular  covers,  having  a  few  steady  old 
hounds  to  assist  them  ;  and  it  is  to  the  old  pack  that  the 
best  parts  of  the  county  are  assigned,  in  which  they  meet 
four  da}'S  in  the  week,  when  the  weather  permits. 

"  The  name  of  Mr.  Meynell's  huntsman  is  John  Eaven, 
a  man  of  good  j)arts,  and  of  peculiarly  sportsmanlike 
appearance.  He  has  the  eye  of  a  hawk,  the  voice  of  a 
stentor,  is  a  good  sportsman,  and  not  to  be  excelled  in 
horsemanship.  (At  these  words  Frank's  eye  glistened, 
and  he  was  heard  to  heave  a  sigh — as  much  as  to  say, 
How  I  should  like  to  see  that  man  !)  His  two  whippers- 
in  are  equally  effective  with  himself;  but,  strange  to 
say,  one  of  them  (Jones)  has  but  one  leg,  having  suffered 

3 


34  THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN 

amputation  for  a  white  swelling,  and  the  loss  is  supplied 
by  cork." 

Mr.  Raby.—^''  What  a  game  man  must  Jones  be  !  I 
have  often  wondered,  Mr.  Somerby,  that  Mr.  Meynell 
should  reside  at  Quorndon  Hall,  as  I  see,  by  the  map, 
that  it  is  situated  quite  at  the  outside  of  the  most  open 
and  best  part  of  the  county.  I  conclude,  however,  that  it 
is,  as  a  residence  for  a  master  of  foxhounds,  in  every 
respect  complete." 

Mr.  Somerhy. — "Quorndon  Hall,  as  a  house,  although 
pleasantly  situated,  on  the  bank  of  the  river  Soar,  which 
runs  partially  through  the  grounds,  has  no  pretension 
beyond  the  rank  of  country  gentlemen's  houses  in  general ; 
neither  is  it  upon  a  large  scale.  Its  situation,  also,  is  not 
central  ;  but  it  has  one  advantage,  which  Mr.  Meynell 
thinks  much  of.  It  is  within  easy  reach  of  the  forest 
of  Charnwood,  which  affords  excellent  opportunities  for 
making  young  hounds,  as  well  as  of  cub -hunting,  in  the 
autumn,  with  the  old  ones.  That  forest  abounds  with 
foxes — is  good  scenting  ground  ;  and  we  hunt  there  long 
after  the  good  country  is  shut  up  ; — in  fact,  until  May-day, 
at  which  .period  of  the  year  it  is  desirable,  for  more 
reasons  than  one,  that  hounds  should  not  have  far  to 
travel  to  cover.  Mr.  Meynell  is,  therefore,  partial  to 
Quorndon  as  a  residence  ;  and  he  has  a  temporary  kennel 
in  the  Market  Harborough  country,  in  which  his  hounds 
lie,  when  the  fixture  is  in  that  quarter." 

Mr.  Raby. — "  You  are,  I  conclude,  domiciled  at  Melton 
Mowbray.  All  I  know  of  that  town  is,  from  ha\dng  once 
passed  through  it,  on  my  road  to  the  north  of  England  ; 
but  I  did  not  get  out  of  my  carriage.  It  appeared  to  be 
but  an  insignificant  place." 

Mr.  Somerhy. — "  And  it  is  so  ;  it  possesses  but  one  inn, 
and  that  a  very  bad  one  ;  no  bank,  and  very  few  good 
houses.  But  it  is  well  situated  for  a  sportsman,  during 
his  residence  in  the  county  ;  as  almost  every  good  cover  in 
Mr.  Meynell's,  as  well  as  in  the  other  hunts,  is  to  be  got 
at  from  it ;  and,  weather  permitting,  no  man  need  remain 
idle  in  Melton  from  want  of  being  able  to  reach  hounds." 

Mr.  Raby. — "  Do  vou  hunt  every  day  ? '' 

Mr.  Somerby.—"  I  do." 

Mr.  Raby. — "  Is  not  the  fatigue  of  hunting  six  days  in 
the  week  more  than  the  generality  of  constitutions  will 
bear  without  injury  ? " 


THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN  35 

Mr.  Somerby. — "  I  think  not.  On  the  contrary,  it  is  my 
opinion,  that  any  man,  under  the  age  of  fifty-five,  whose 
frame  is  naturally  sound,  who  lives  temperately  as  to 
wine,  and  who  will  allow  himself  eight  hours'  bed,  will 
be  better  in  health  for  such  severe  exercise.  It  will 
render  him  superior  to  fatigue,  and,  barring  accidents 
and  epidemics,  superior  also  to  disease." 

Mr.  Baby. — "  But,  Mr.  Somerby,  I  am  at  a  loss  to  know 
how  you  get  over  such  fences  as  I  saw  in  the  country 
between  Harborough  and  Melton ;  many  of  them 
appeared  impracticable,  or  'stoppers,'  as  I  am  told  they 
are  called  in  the  fox-hunting  world." 

Mr.  Somerby. — "Why,  in  the  language  of  one  of  the 
oldest  sportsmen,  and  hardest  riders,  in  the  Belvoir  Hunt, 
we  send  our  hearts  over  first  and  then  follow  them  in  the  best 
ivay  we  can.'' 

Mr.  Baby. — "  You  must  get  many  falls,  every  year." 

Mr.  Somerby. — "  Of  course  we  do  ;  but  we  think  nothing 
of  falls.  Show  me  the  man  who  says  he  never  gets  them, 
and  I  will  tell  him  he  seldom  sees  hounds — at  least  few 
good  runs;  and  this  in  any  country.  But,  to  quote 
another  of  our  best  men  (singulus  in  arte,  I  was  going  to 
say),  'Falls  go  for  nothing,  provided  you  don't  let  go 
your  horse  ;  but  a  man  looks  very  small,  running  across  a 
field,  in  a  red  coat,  booted  and  spurred,  crying  out.  Stop 
my  horse ! — 'pray,  sir,  stop  my  horse  ! '  The  answer  generally 
is,  '  It  would  be  a  pity  to  stop  him,  sir — he  is  going  so 
beautifully.' " 

Mr.  Baby. — "I  am  really  ashamed  of  catechising  you 
thus,  but  the  fact  is,  exclusive  of  the  pleasure  I  myself 
derive  from  your  description,  this  second  boy  of  mine, 
whom  you  saw  the  other  day  with  my  harriers,  has  a 
great  wish  to  become  a  fox-hunter.  Let  us  fill  our  glasses, 
drink  a  bumper  to  Mr.  Meynell  and  '  the  Noble  Science,' 
and  then,  perhaps,  you  w^ll  have  the  kindness  to  give  us 
a  short  account  of  a  run  with  his  hounds." 

Mr.  Somerby. — "  I  will  with  pleasure  comply  with  your 
request ;  more  especially  as  it  is  joined  in  by  my  young 
friend  there,  whose  attention  to  the  hunting  of  your 
excellent  harriers  very  forcibly  struck  me.  But  he  must 
not  think  lightly  of  hare-hunting  ;  Mr.  Meynell  enters  all 
his  young  hounds  to  hare,  although  he  expects  them  to  be 
steady  to  fox  afterwards  ;  which  will,  no  doubt,  be  the 
case  with  your  promising  son.     I  know  not,  then,  that  I 


36  THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN 

can  do  better  than  relate  the  particulars  of  the  very  last 
run  I  saw  with  Mr.  Meynell's  hounds,  rendered  more 
than  commonly  interesting,  perhaps,  by  the  part  I  myself 
performed  in  it : — 

"  It  was  a  beautiful  morning  for  scent — at  least,  so  it 
appeared,  and,  for  once,  it  kept  its  promise  ;  but  I  thought 
it  would  be  a  scenting  day,  for  I  observed  the  clouds  were 
stationary  above,  and  all  was  clear  below,  with  no  sun  ; 
the  barometer  was  also  rising.  We  had  a  large  tield,  it 
being  a  favourite  fixture  ;  and  as  I  had  the  luck  to  tally- 
ho  the  fox  away,  I,  of  course,  got  a  good  start.  It 
happened,  however,  that  I  this  day  rode  a  five-year-old 
horse,  the  only  one  in  my  stable ;  for  that  tender  age 
agrees  not  with  our  shire.  I  had  never  had  a  taste  of 
him  before  ;  but  my  groom  had,  and  assured  me  he  would 
make  a  trump.  'He  is  as  quick  as  lightning,'  said  he, 
'  and  he  will  face  anything  ;  but  his  temper,  as  you  know, 
sir,  is  none  of  the  best.  I  would  advise  you,  when  you 
can,  to  take  a  line  of  your  own.' 

"  Our  first  fence  was  a  flight  of  rails,  with  a  yawning 
ditch  on  the  further  side,  which  I  thought  it  was  my  luck 
to  have  the  first  fly  at ;  but,  looking  earnestly  at  the 
hounds, — as  every  man  should  do,  whether  on  a  young 
one  or  an  old  one, — I  never  saw  parson  Thompson,  who 
came  right  across  me  at  the  fence,  and  got  a  nasty  sort  of 
a  fall.  (By-the-by,  he  told  me,  afterwards,  he  'could 
not  stop  the  old  mare,  she  was  so  d-- — d  fresh  : '  if  so,  all 
well  ;  if  not,  served  his  reverence  right.)  I  tried  to  stop 
the  young  thorough-bred  one  ;  but  he  threw  up  his  heacl, 
and  it  was  '  no  go ; '  so,  thinking  my  own  the  most  precious 
life  of  the  two, — I  mean,  of  more  value  to  me  than  parson 
Thompson's, — I  let  him  go  ;  and  all  I  saw,  when  up  in 
the  air,  was  the  old  mare's  belly  and  his  reverence's  head, 
the  rest  of  his  body  being  under  his  mare.  However,  I 
never  touched  him,  I  am  happy  to  say  ;  and  two  others, 
besides  myself,  did  as  I  did  ;  but  the  third  was  not  quite 
so  fortunate.  He  jumped,  as  he  thought,  on  the  parson's 
head  ;  but,  as  luck  would  have  it,  it  was  only  his  hat,  as 
his  head  had  just  that  moment  slipped  out  of  it.  You 
are  aware,  Mr.  Raby,  these  things  will  happen  in  our 
very  fast  country,  and  are  thought  little  of  ;  although  it 
is  no  joke  to  get  a  fall  at  the  first  fence,  with  such  a 
crowd  behind  you,  each  man  trying  to  be  in  front,  and 
all  as  jealous  as  newly-married  women  at  a  ball.     How- 


THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN  37 

ever,  I  kept  my  line  ;  and,  if  I  remember  right,  the  next 
fence  was  notinng—onlij  a  gate,  a  stiff  one,  to  be  sure  ; 
but  young  ones  are  always  good  at  timber — that  is  to  say, 
if  they  will  but  look  at  it. 

"Now  the  pace  soon  began  to  tell;  for  the  country 
rode  infernally  deep,  and  there  was  no  getting  a  nick  by 
a  turn,  as  the  fox  went  straight  on  end.  There  were  not 
more  than  eight  or  ten  of  the  field  very  near  to  the 
hounds,  and  no  one  exactly  on  their  line.  In  fact,  I  saw 
j)lainly  how  things  were  going.  Puggy  was  facing  the 
cream  of  the  country,  and  I  said  to  myself,  '  JFe  are  in  for 
a  tickler.' 

"  I  began  to  be  sorry,  however,  that  I  was  riding  my 
five-year-old  ;  indeed,  I  meant  to  have  had  him  as  my 
second  horse,  and  I  must  say  my  groom  advised  me  to  do 
so.  However,  there  M-as  nothing  to  be  done,  now,  but  to 
let  him  go  ;  and  as  I  only  gave  two  hundred  for  him,  at 
Newmarket,  I  thought  I  might  try  what  he  was  made  of 
at  once.  You  know,  Mr.  Eaby,  it's  no  use  keeping  horses 
at  Melton  merely  to  look  at ;  consequently,  if  they  are 
good  for  nothing,  we  send  them  at  once  to  the  hammer. 
We  let  them  try  their  luck  in  the  iirovindals,  when  they 
cannot  live  over  the  grass. 

"  The  next  fence  was  a  bulfinch,  as  black  as " — (Here 
Mr.  Somerby  was  interrupted  by  Frank  asking  his  father 
what  was  meant  by  a  "  bulfinch  fence  ; "  but  his  father 
was  unable  to  answer  the  question) — "  The  next  fence," 
resumed  Mr.  Somerby,  "was  a  bulfinch  fence,  as  black 
and  as  dark  as  the  shades  below  :  you  could  not,  indeed, 
have  seen  through  it  with  a  lantern.  Then  as  to  what 
there  might  be  on  the  other  side,  Heaven  knew,  but  I  did 
not.  I  only  guessed  there  was  a  yawning  ditch,  and  very 
likely  a  stilt"  rail  to  boot.  But  what  was  to  be  done  ?  The 
hounds  were  going  the  top  of  the  pace — no  time  to  turn 
to  the  right  or  to  the  left ;  two  fellows  nearer  to  them 
than  I  was  (didn't  like  that,  you  know,  Francis,  eh  ?)  and 
Cecil  Forester,  close  behind  me,  roaring  out,  '  Go  along, 
sir,  for  God's  sake  ! ' — so  at  it  I  went.  It  was  a  rasper 
('  a  raster ! '  exclaimed  Frank,  but  only  in  hearing  of  his 
father),  surely,  and  I  cannot  say  I  was  sorry  when  I  found 
myself  well  landed  in  the  next  field.  Our  party  was  now 
becoming  select.  There  were  only  five  of  us  right  well 
with  the  hounds ;  and  although  many  were  near,  some 
were  already  beaten,  and  some  noivhere.     But,  to  be  sure. 


38  THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN 

the  pace  was  awful.  'Sharper  than  common,  this 
morning,'  cried  George  Germaine  to  me,  and  he  seldom 
sings  out,  as  you  know,  on  that  score ;  '  how  does  the 
young  one  like  it "? '  Indeed,  he  has  been  heard  to  say, 
during  the  Bibury  meeting,  that  a  race-horse  never  yet 
went  fast  enough  to  please  him  ;  and  that,  if  it  would  not 
hurt  him,  he  would  like  to  be  shot  out  of  a  cannon's 
mouth.  Albeit,  there  was  no  cause  for  complaint  now  ; 
still  my  horse  appeared  to  be  going  at  his  ease  ;  in  short, 
he  delighted  me.  I  said  to  myself,  '  You  are  worth  double 
vjhat  I  gave  for  you.'  He  jumped  an  ox-fence  (Frank  here 
again  looked  surprised)  the  next  but  one  after  the  bulfinch, 
and  then  a  stile,  with  an  awkward  foot  bridge.  A  widish 
brook  he,  of  course,  took  in  his  stride — for  all  young  ones 
will  leap  brooks,  if  the  riders  will  only  let  them  go  their 
own  pace  at  them  ;  so  I  did  not  think  much  of  that ;  but 
I  could  not  help  saying  to  myself, — for  there  was  no 
one  very  near  to  have  heard  me, — '  /  have  got  a  trump,  I 
believe ;  the  blood  of  Herod  will  tell.'  Still  he  kept 
shaking  his  head  in  an  extraordinary  manner  ;  I  had 
never  seen  him  do  so  before.  If  I  had  had  my  whip  in 
my  hand,  I  should  have  given  him  a  '  nobber ; '  for,  you 
know,  it's  awkward  work  going  very  fast  at  high  and 
strong  timber — post  and  rail,  or  what  not — with  a  blind 
ditch  on  the  rising  side,  and  your  horse  shaking  his  head 
like  a  terrier  killing  a  rat.  I  could  not  do  this,  however  ; 
for  I  had  lost  my  whip,  and  part  of  my  breeches  as  well, 
at  that  infernal  bulfinch.  I  know  not  how  it  happened, 
but  that  day  I  was  not  in  leathers  ;  for  John  Hawkes  and 
myself  always  ride  in  leathers,  though  people  say  '  it  looks 
slow.'  I  suppose  Pritchard  thinks  corduroys  less  trouble  ; 
for  he  often  says,  when  he  wakes  me,  '  Likely  to  be  wet, 
sir  ;  better  not  wear  leathers  to-day.'  (The  washerwoman 
polishes  the  corduroys,  and  he  cleans  the  leathers.)  To 
proceed  with  my  story.  When  we  checked  for  a  minute 
or  two  under  Carlton  Clumps,  I  found  what  it  was  that 
made  the  young  one  shake  his  head.  He  had  got  a  thorn 
in  one  cheek,  out  of  that  infernal  bulfincli,  and  the  blood 
was  streaming  down  the  other,  from  a  rip  from  one  of  the 
growers  in  it,  I  got  the  thorn  out  the  best  way  I  could  ; 
but  my  horse  was  evidently  in  much  pain.  What  was  to 
be  done  ?  I  could  have  cried  ;  for  I  love  horses  better 
than  most  things,  and  abhor  cruelty  in  any  shape.  I 
condemned  myself  ;  I  wished  I  was  anywhere  but  where  I 


THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN  39 

was,  and  said  to  myself,  '  What  could  have  possessed  me  to 
ride  Brilliant  to-day,  when  I  have  nine  seasoned  hunters, 
all  sound,  in  my  stable,  and  every  one  fit  to  go  ;  and 
Griffiths,  my  groom,  told  me  I  had  better  not  ? '  '  I'll  go 
home,'  I  said  ;  but,  confound  it,  at  that  very  moment. 
Champion  and  Statesman  hit  off  the  scent  ;  Meynell  took 
off  his  cap,  and  gave  a  scream  ;  and  what  could  I  do  ? 
What  would  you  have  done  ?  The  young  thorough-bred 
one  had  recovered  his  wind  ;  and,  as  he  shook  his  head 
less,  and  played  cheerfully  with  his  bit,  I  hoped  he  was  in 
less  pain.  He  was  carrying  me  magnificently — not  more 
than  a  dozen  of  us  with  the  hounds  ;  a  splendid  country 
before  us — I  took  the  lead  again."  (Here  Frank  heaved 
another  sigh,  and  became  restless.) 

"  I  shall  never  forget,"  continued  Mr.  Somerby,  "  the 
third  fence  we  now  came  to,  which  was  out  of  the  next 
field  but  one  to  Shankton  Holt  cover.  It  was  not  a  double 
but  a  treble.  It  was  of  this  description  ; — thank  Heaven  ! 
there  are  not  more  than  three  or  four  of  such  in  most 
runs  ; — first,  a  ditch  ;  then  a  rail ;  then  another  ditch  ; 
and  then  another  rail.  You  see  there  is  no  landing  for  a 
horse,  if  he  takes  fences  of  this  sort  at  twice,  except  on 
the  first  rail,  or  in  the  second  ditch  ;  but  the  old  ones 
will  double  them,  when  very  well  handled  by  their 
riders. 

"  Now  the  wind  was  well  in  Brilliant,  and  I  had  found 
he  would  face  anything  ;  but  I  doubted  his  being  up  to 
this  queer  double,  or  treble,'  as  I  have  called  it.  I  sent 
him  at  it,  then,  at  the  rate  of  twenty  miles  an  hour, 
thinking  to  take  it  all  at  a  fly ;  but  far  as  the  clever 
young  horse  flung  himself,  he  could  not  clear  the  whole. 
He  alighted  with  one  fore-leg  over,  and  the  other  under, 
the  outermost  rail,  and  gave  me  a  thundering  fall.  '  It's 
unfortunate,'  said  I  to  myself,  glancing  my  eye  at  the 
fence,  as  I  arose  from  the  ground  ;  '  if  I  had  known  that 
that  middle  rail  had  been  so  weak,  we  would  have  gone 
'  in  and  out  clever,'  as  Cholmondeley  says  ;  *  at  least,  we 
should  have  got  over  with  a  scramble.  I  am  out  of  luck 
to-day,'  added  I  ;  '  but  here  goes  again,'  and  soon  jumped 
into  my  saddle. 

"  The  hounds  having  turned  towards  me  a  little,  I  was 
very  soon  in  my  place  again.  'What  now?'  said  one. 
'  Disasters  come  thickly  this  morning,'  cried  another. 
'All  right  again,'  replied  I  ;  'take  care  of  yourselves,  for 


40  THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN 

we  are  in  for  business  to-day  ;  and  I  perceive  one  or  two 
of  you  have  been  paying  your  respects  to  Mother  Earth. 
Don't  halloo  till  you  are  out  of  the  wood,  my  boys.' 

"  The  scent  appeared  to  get  better  and  better  ; — indeed, 
the  pace  had  been  awful  since  the  check  in  the  windmill 
piece.  I  looked  back  twice,  and  could  only  see  four  of 
the  field  in  our  rear,  and  there  were  but  five  besides 
myself  well  with  the  hounds.  '  This  is  beautiful,'  I  said  ; 
'  Divine ! '  shouted  John  Hawkes.  '  Indeed  it  is,  sir,'  said 
Wing,  the  grazier,  going  in  his  usual  place.  I  thought  so 
too.  I  could  not  help  giving  them  a  cheer,  which  1  don't 
often  do,  and  got  a  rebuke  for  my  pains.  '  Leave  'em 
alone,  sir,'  exclaimed  Meynell ;  '  they  cannot  be  doing 
it  better  ;  I'll  bet  a  thousand  on  my  hounds,  if  you  will 
not  over-ride  them.'  Ten  minutes  more,  however,  began 
to  tell  tales.  One  of  the  best  nags  out  of  Melton  was 
about  to  look  queer, — and  so  did  his  owner  too,  for  he  had 
been  just  saying  he  could  go  for  another  hour.  It  is  true 
he  had  rammed  him  along  at  a  devil  of  a  rate,  and  he 
rides  with  rather  too  slack  a  rein.  '  Never  loose  their 
heads,  my  boy,  whatever  you  do,'  said  my  old  uncle  to  me, 
soon  after  I  was  breeched  :  and  no  man's  advice  was 
better  than  his.  He  was  one  of  the  best  of  his  day  ;  but 
still  I  think  he  would  be  called  '  slow '  now. 

"  But  to  continue  our  run.  We  crossed  the  brook 
under  Xorton-by-Galby,  and  went  as  straight  as  a  line 
for  Rollestonwood,  Forester  and  Lambton  being  the  first 
over  it,  and  my  young  one  following  in  the  very  foot- 
holes  of  their  horses.  '  Ha  !  ha  ! '  said  I  to  myself,  as  we 
rose  the  hill  in  Galby-field,  which,  by-the-by,  being  deep 
and  stiff,  took  rather  tight  hold  of  the  nags — '  another  ox- 
fence,  and  most  likely  another  fall.' — '  I'll  not  have  this 
ox-fence,'  said  I ;  '  they  are  turning  to  the  right,  and  I'll 
make  for  yonder  sheep-pen  in  the  corner.'  But  there  was 
no  such  luck  for  me,  or  my  horse.  '  It  is  as  fast  as  a  jail- 
door,'  said  Loraine  Smith,  who  was  trying  to  open  the 
gate  ;  'and  there  is  not  room  to  jump  into  and  out  of  it.' 
What  was  to  be  done  ?  The  hounds  were  going  with  a 
burning  scent,  and  appeared  to  be  bearing  away  to  the 
left.  '  Here  goes,  then,'  said  I  ;  '  there  is  nothing  else  for 
it ; '  so  catching  fast  hold  of  the  young  one's  head,  I  sent 
him  manfully  at  the  ox-fence;  but  it  had  like  to  have 
been  a  case.  The  ditch  was  broad  and  deep  (Frank  was 
here  observed  to  listen  most  attentively,  with  the  hope. 


THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN  41 

no  doubt,  of  being  better  acquainted  with  the  nature  and 
character  of  this  ox-fence),  the  hed,(?e  thick  and  plashed, 
and  the  rail  beyond  them  strong.  Neither  was  this  all. 
There  was  a  considerable  fall,  or  drop,  into  the  next, field, 
which  would  have  been  bad  enough  had  my  horse  landed 
himself  on  the  ridge  ;  but,  unfortunately  for  us  both,  he 
alighted  in  the  furrow,  which  was  deep  and  sticky.  The 
drop  must  have  been  six  feet,  at  the  least,  and  he  had  a 
hard  struggle  to  keep  his  legs,  for  he  must  have  cleared 
more  than  seven  yards  in  length,  or  he  would  not  have 
got  over  it  at  all.  It  told  iqjon  him ;  but  I  soon  got  him 
upon  a  headland,  and,  standing  up  in  my  stirrups,  took  a 
good  pull  at  his  head,  which  recovered  him  Avonderfully, 
before  he  got  to  the  end  of  the  ground,  which  was  sixty 
acres  or  more ;  but  you  know,  Mr.  Raby,  the  thorough- 
bred  ones  will  do  this.  In  short,  he  cleared  a  high  gate 
into  the  Uppingham  and  Leicester  road,  a  little  to  the 
right  of  Billesden,  and  a  large,  straggling,  blackthorn 
hedge,  and  a  ditch  out  of  it,  witli  apparent  ease  to  himself, 
and  greatly  to  my  delight.  '  This  cannot  last  long,'  I 
said.  '  I  wish  the  fox  would  die,  or  that  I  had  any  horse 
in  my  stable  save  this ;  but  Pug  must  go  to  ground  in  the 
Coplow,  or,  at  least,  we  may  come  to  a  check  in  it.'  The 
devil  a  bit  ;  he  never  went  into  the  Coplow  at  all,  but 
straight  away,  as  if  for  Lozeby  plantations.  I  shall  kill 
the  young  one,  thought  I  ;  but  what  could  I  do?  We 
went  right  over  Tilton  field — the  worst  ground  in  the 
country  for  a  tired  one — and  out  of  it  I  got  another  fall ; 
but  I  believe  it  was  my  own  fault.  The  fence  was  of  this 
description, — it  was  plashed,  newly  plashed,  with  growers 
in  it  as  thick  as  a  man's  leg ;  but  (confound  all 
Leicestershire  hedgers  and  ditchers !)  the  brushwood 
leaned,  uncut,  towards  me,  over  at  least  two  yards  of 
ground,  and  there  was  a  wide  ditch  on  the  landing  side. 
Brilliant  was  going  gallantly  at  it,  when,  perhaps,  think- 
ing I  was  upon  Harkaway " 

Mr.  Baby. — "Pardon  me  for  interrupting  you,  Mr. 
Somerby,  in  your  highly  interesting  and  well  -  told 
description  of  this  fine  run  ;  but  allow  me  to  ask  why  those 
who  have  such  large  studs  of  hunters  at  Melton  do  not 
always  have  two  horses  out  each  day,  which  would  afford 
a  chance  to  change  in  the  course  of  the  runs  ;  at  all  events 
in  many  of  them  ? " 

Mr.  Somerby. — "Your  remark  is  an  obvious  one.     A 


4J?         THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN 

few  of  our  hardest  riders  are  inclined  to  do  so,  and  I 
hope  to  live  to  see  the  plan  generally  adopted.  The 
difficulty  appears  to  exist  in  procuring  fellows  with 
brains  in  their  heads  to  ride  the  second  horses  iwoperly,  so 
as  to  bring  them  up  fresh.  However,  to  proceed.  Perhaps,, 
thinking  I  was  on  Harkaway,  who  is  rather  slack  at  his 
fences,  or,  more  likely,  fearing  we  might  drop  short,  I 
rammed  my  spurs  into  the  young  one's  sides,  and  he 
jumped  further  than  he  need  have  done.  He  kept  his  legs- 
on  landing,  but  the  third  step  he  took  afterwards,  his  toe 
struck  the  top  of  one  of  those  ant-hills  with  which  that 
part  of  Leicestershire  abounds,  and  down  he  went  on  his 
head.  He  rolled  completely  over  me,  and  we  lay  on  the 
ground  together.  He  was  up  first,  however — for  I  could 
neither  stir  hand  nor  foot ;  but  it  was  only  from  the  wind 
being  knocked  out  of  me,  and  in  a  very  few  minutes  I 
caught  him.  Indeed,  he  was  walking  quietly  away,  with 
his  back  turned  upon  the  hounds,  having  very  little  puflf 
left  in  him ;  in  other  words,  he  appeared  regularly 
pumped  out.  Nor  did  I  like  his  appearance  at  all ;  it 
was  anything  but  pleasing.  His  tail  was  shaking — his 
flanks  worked  violently  —  his  nostrils  were  much  dis- 
tended :  there  was  that  glare  of  the  eye,  also,  which 
horses  exhibit  when  they  are  much  overworked  :  and  he 
staggered  as  I  leaned  my  weight  on  the  stirrup.  I  stood 
still  for  a  moment,  but  could  hear  nothing.  'It's  all 
over,'  said  I ;  '  they  have  run  away  from  me  ;  I  must  go 
home ; '  and  I  patted  the  young  one  on  the  neck,  saying, 
'  Well,  you  have  gone  a  good  one,'  and  walked  him  along 
a  headland  to  a  gate  which  led  to  a  hard  road.  Here  he 
struck  into  a  trot,  without  being  urged  to  it  by  me,  which 
plainly  showed  he  was  recovering  himself ;  and  the 
bleeding  from  his  cheek  had  ceased.  '  Hark  ! '  said  I ; 
'  surely  I  hear  the  hounds ; '  but  Brilliant  had  heard  them 
before"^  me.  From  a  trot  he  struck  into  a  gallop,  and  I 
saw  them  about  a  mile  ahead  of  rae.  '  The  fox  will  not 
long  face  this  wind,'  said  I ;  '  I  have  a  chance  of  dropping 
in  with  them  yet.  By  Jove,  they  are  coming  round  to 
me  ;  he  has  turned  short  for  Quenby.  I  shall  catch  them 
at  Newton  village.  What  a  tickler  the  nags  must  have 
had  over  the  Newton  hills  ! ' 

"  As  I  predicted,  I  fell  in  with  them  in  a  road  a  little 
beyond  the  village.  There  were  eleven  men  wdth  the 
hounds,  and  I  made  the  twelfth  ;  all  the  rest,  as  O'Kelly 


THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN  43 

said,  after  one  of  Eclipse's  races — ^nowhere.'  'Where 
have  you  been  ? '  said  one.  '  Where  I  deserved  to  have 
been,'  was  my  reply.  '  Are  you  hurt  1 '  '  No.'  But  my 
horse  !  what  state  was  he  in  %  Why,  I  will  tell  you.  The 
hard  road  had  greatly  recovered  him  and  he  leaped  a 
widish  place  out  of  the  lane,  when  the  hounds  crossed 
under  his  nose,  as  well  as  he  could  have  leaped  it  in  the 
morning.  '  ife's  heart  of  oak,^  said  I  ;  and  I  sent  him  at  a 
flight  of  rails  nearly  as  high  as  his  back,  which  he  cleared 
with  apparent  ease.  In  short,  he  appeared  to  be  the 
freshest  horse  in  the  field ;  but  he  had  had  his  puff,  whilst 
the  others  were  going  over  the  Newton  hills  (remember, 
he  was  only  a  five-year-old).  Distress  was  apparent  in 
all  ;  even  Bernado  began  to  refuse,  which  he  never  does 
till  he  is  beat  (Forester  swears  he  never  icas  but  twice); 
and  Meynell's  grey  looked  very  much  like  compounding. 
Germaine  got  fast  into  a  sheep-pen  ;  for  although  Melon 
jumped  into  it,  he  would  not  jump  out;  in  short,  the 
jump  had  left  him,  and  we  never  saw  him  again.  '  Where's 
the  best  place  ? '  cried  Cholmondeley,  who  could  not  face 
some  timber,  and  was  looking  for  a  creep  through  a 
bulfinch  ;  he  found  it  not,  and  we  saw  no  more  of  him. 
'  How  shall  we  get  over  the  brook  1 '  holloaed  Lockley, 
who  would  have  jumped  one  twice  as  wide  in  the  morning, 
and  thought  nothing  about  it.  '  Go  quick  at  it,'  said  I  ; 
and  Brilliant  went  a  yard  beyond  it.  '  Well  done  the 
five-year-old  ! '  holloaed  Martin  Hawke,  who  was  the 
next  moment  over  head  and  ears  in  the  water ;  his  horse 
never  rose  at  it  at  all. 

"  There  were  now  only  five  of  us  with  the  hounds,  and 
it  began  to  be  labour  and  sorrow  with  us  all.  As  for 
Brilliant,  it  was  all  over  with  him.  The  flash  in  the 
pan  had  exploded — perhaps  had  been  extinguished  by  the 
brook.  Nevertheless,  I  am  ashamed  to  say,  I  persevered 
with  him,  but  I  could  scarcely  lift  him  along;  —  he 
dragged  his  hind  legs  through  the  fences,  and  I  could  not 
make  him  rise.  He  was,  in  fact,  twice  down  on  his  head 
in  the  space  of  a  mile  and  a  half,  though  we  did  not  part 
company.  In  addition  to  this,  with  the  finest  mouth  in 
the  world,  he  leaned  half  his  weight  on  my  hand,  and  the 
hounds  were  leaving  me  apace.  '  I'll  try  him  once  more,' 
said  I  to  myself;  so  got  him  on  a  smooth  headland  (for 
ridge  and  furrow  were  destroying  him),  and  sent  him  at 
a  stile  at  the  end  of  it.     For  the  first  time  in  his  life  he 


44         THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN 

refused  ;  I  put  him  at  it  again,  and  I  thought  he  was 
going  to  take  it  ;  but  he  had  not  the  power  to  rise,  and, 
swerving  a  little  to  the  left,  he  ran  his  head  into  the 
hedge,  and  floundered  on  his  knees  on  the  bank.  I  jumped 
off  him  immediately,  and  thanked  him  for  not  giving  me 
a  fall.  Now  what  a  situation  was  I  in  !  I  could  still  see 
the  hounds,  and  the  five  men  going  by  their  side.  But  I 
could  only  see  them  ;  I  could  no  longer  be  with  them. 
Like  King  Richard,  at  Bosworth,  what  would  I  not  have 
given  for  a  horse  ! 

"  The  sequel  is  now  to  come.  The  fox  was  killed  about 
three  miles  farther  on,  after  one  of  the  finest  and  severest 
chases  recorded,  even  in  Leicestershire.  But  in  what 
condition  were  myself  and  my  horse  ?  As  for  me,  I  was 
bruised  and  sore,  and  had  dislocated  by  right  thumb  ;  I 
had  also  left  my  whip  and  a  slice  of  my  breeches  in  the 
bulfinch  ;  but  these  were  only  trifles.  I  trembled  for  the 
fate  of  the  five-year-old,  and  could  not  bear  the  sight  of 
his  wound.  I  looked  for  a  village  and  could  see  none; 
but  I  saw  the  house  of  a  Leicestershire  grazier,  and  that 
was  enough  for  me  at  the  moment.  I  led  Brilliant  to  his 
stable,  and  his  hack  conve3^ed  me  to  Melton. 

" '  Richards,'  said  I  to  my  groom — and  no  man  has  a 
better — '  send  a  helper  off  with  this  hack  directly,  and 
put  yourself  into  the  gig,  without  loss  of  time,  with  every- 
thing necessary  for  a  tired  and  maimed  horse,  and  leave 
him  not  till  he  is  recovered  ;  that  is  to  say  (for  I  had  my 
fears),  if  he  does  recover.  It  was  contrary  to  your  advice 
that  I  rode  Brilliant  to-day  ;  and,  unfortunately  for  him, 
it  has  been  the  hardest  run  we  have  had  the  last  three 
years.' 

" '  It  is  a  pity  you  rode  him,  sir,'  replied  Richards, 
*  whilst  you  had  so  many  other  horses  c^uite  fit  to  go.  I 
think  he  will  make  the  best  hunter  in  your  stable  in  an- 
other year  or  two.  But  where  shall  I  find  him,  sir? '  '  At 
Mr.  King's,  near  Hungerton,'  was  my  reply.  '  He  has 
turned  one  of  his  own  horses  out  of  his  best  loose  box  on 
purpose  to  make  Brilliant  comfortable.'  'And  ivhere  is  he 
cut,  sirV  asked  the  anxious  groom;  'is  it  a  bad  over- 
reach, or  have  you  staked  him?'  'I  have  done  neither,' 
I  said  ;  '  get  to  him  as  quickly  as  you  can,  and  you  will 
see.' 

"  I  dined  that  evening  at  the  old  club  in  Melton,  where 
there  was  a  very  pleasant  party  ;  and  went  afterwards  to 


THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN  45 

another  house,  where  all  sorts  of  fun  was  going  on  ;  but  I 
could  have  no  enjoyment ;  I  thought  only  of  my  poor 
young  horse.  It  is,  however,  time  to  finish  my  story. 
The  following  day  was  Sunday,  and  I  told  Pritchard  not 
to  call  me  till  ten.  However,  I  grew  fidgety  ;  so  rang  my 
l:)ell  at  nine,  and  asked  if  there  were  any  tidings  from 
Hungerton  ?  '  Yes,  sir,'  said  Pritchard,  '  Kichards  and 
the  helper  returned  home  last  night,  after  you  were  gone 
to  bed.'  '  How  was  that  ? '  I  inquired.  '  Brilliant  v:as 
dead,  sir,  before  they  reached  the  house ! '  '  Shut  the  door, 
said  I  hastily,  '  and  don't  come  near  me  till  twelve.'  I 
had  a  good  mind  to  have  made  a  vow  never  to  have  hunted 
again."  ^ 

At  the  conclusion,  a  dead  silence  was  observed  for  a 
minute  or  two  :  it  was  first  broken  by  Mr.  Egerton,  who 
had  listened  with  the  deepest  attention.  "  I  suppose,  Mr. 
Somerby,"  he  said,  "the  scene  you  have  been  describing 
is  one  of  unusual  occurrence  ?  " 

"You  mean  the  death  of  my  horse,"  replied  Mr. 
Somerby. 

"  Not  merely  that,"  resumed  Mr.  Egerton.  "It  appears 
to  me  strange  that  the  word  sport,  which  means  diversion, 
or  pleasure,  can  be  applied  to  the  details  of  the  day  which 
you  have  so  minutely  described.  Here  were  upwards  of 
a  hundred  gentlemen  assembled,  at  an  immense  expense, 
hoping,  no  doubt,  to  enjoy  the  diversion  of  hunting  a  fox  ; 
but,  by  your  account,  not  a  tenth  part  were  able  to  partake 
of  it  ;  for  not  more  than  that  number  saw  a  hound  after 
the  first  ten  minutes,  and  those  at  prodigious  peril  to  their 
lives,  great  suffering  to  their  horses,  and,  in  your  own 
case,  at  the  cost  of  a  noble  animal's  life,  and  two  hundred 
guineas  as  well." 

"  You  have  hit  my  friend  hard,  Mr.  Egerton,"  observed 
Sir  "William.     "  I  shall  listen  anxiously  to  his  defence." 

"  You  know  we  are  no  fox-hunters  at  Amstead,  Mr. 
Somerby,"  said  Mr.  Raby,  wishing  to  put  his  visitor  at  his 
ease  ;  "  we  only  blow  our  horses  now  and  then  with  the 
harriers  ;  and  my  reverend  friend  there  has  never  even 
gone  that  length." 

"  Yes,  papa,  but  we  do  more  than  that  sometimes,^''  ex- 
claimed Frank  (Andrew  had  quitted  the  room,  and  gone 

^  The  reader  may  recollect  a  description,  somewhat  resembling 
this,  of  a  run  over  Leicestershire  ;  but  it  is  lawful  for  an  author 
to  take  a  leaf  out  of  his  own  book. 


46  THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN 

to  the  ladies,  in  the  middle  of  the  story)  ;  "  you  know 
Farmer  Williams's  mare  dropped  down  dead,  in  the 
middle  of  a  turnip  field,  the  beginning  of  this  season,  in 
the  famous  run  you  had  with  that  slate-pits  hare." 

"  True,  my  dear,"  replied  Mr.  Eaby  ;  "  but  Dick  tells 
me  she  had  only  been  up  from  grass  a  fortnight,  and  that 
she  died  from  want  of  condition." 

"Thank  ye,  Francis,"  exclaimed  Mr.  Somerby  ;  "I'll 
drink  a  bumper  to  your  health.  You  have  given  me  a 
capital  lift  in  the  defence  I  am  called  upon  to  make  to 
a  somewhat  serious  charge,  and  to  a  reflection  upon  fox- 
hunters  and  fox-hunting.  You  have  helped  me  to  the 
very  loop-hole  at  which  I  can  escape.  You  shall  now  hear 
what  I  have  to  say ;  and,  as  I  am  sure  you  will,  one  day 
or  another,  be  a  fox-hunter,  I  advise  you  to  bear  in  mind 
my  observations.  The  facts  are  these  : — Mr.  Meynell, 
and  some  other  masters  of  foxhounds,  have  brought  them 
to  the  very  highest  pitch  of  perfection  of  which  their 
nature  I  believe  is  capable,  both  as  to  high  breeding  and 
condition  ;  whilst  the  state  of  the  horses  that  follow  them 
is  left  very  nearly  where  it  was.  Strange  to  say,  Cecil 
Forester,  the  very  best  rider  we  have  amongst  us,  and 
supposed  to  be  the  best  judge  of  a  hunter,  declares  he 
never  saw  half  a  dozen  first-rate  thorough-hred  hunters  in 
his  life  ;  the  consequence  is,  that  the  half-bred  horse  is 
still,  for  the  most  part,  required  to  do  what  the  thorough- 
bred cannot  more  than  do  ;  which  is,  to  go  a  racing  pace 
over  a  country  ;  and  he  rnust  go  a  racing  pace  to  keep  up 
to  Meynell's  hounds.  Then,  again,  the  hunter  remains  in 
the  back-ground  in  another  respect.  Hounds  are  pre- 
served in  condition  all  the  year  round  ;  that  is  to  say,  they 
are  kej^t  to  a  certain  point  of  strength  in  their  food  during 
the  summer,  and  are  exercised  regularly  till  hunting 
again  commences.  But  how  is  the  hunter  served  ?  Why, 
by  the  absurd  prejudice  of  our  grooms,  to  which  we 
inconsiderately  give  way,  he  is  stripped  of  his  fine  con- 
dition at  the  end  of  the  season, — which,  by  the  way,  it  has 
taken  half  a  year  to  acquire, — and  allowed  to  run  three 
months  abroad,  accumulating  a  load  of  bad,  flabby  flesh, 
amidst  the  persecution  of  flies  by  day,  and  subject  to  all 
the  vicissitudes  of  our  climate  by  night.  Now  what 
follows  ?  He  is  taken  up  in  August,  and  by  the  end  of 
October — at  all  events,  by  the  first  week  in  November — 
is  expected  to  be  equal  to  more  than  the  exertions  of  the 


THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN  47 

race-horse  wlio  has  never  been  entirely  thrown  out  of 
condition  since  he  was  first  saddled.  These  are  the  causes 
of  such  distress  and  apparent  cruelty  to  the  horse  that 
follows  foxhounds,  and  account  for  the  few  that,  by  means 
of  great  accidental  superiority  in  the  animal,  are  alone  able 
to  see  a  fast  and  long  run  throughout.  Thus,  also,  the 
following  paragraph,  which  I  saw  the  other  day  in  print, 
is  accounted  for  : — '  Mr.  Meynell's  hounds  have  had  great 
sport  this  season.  Two  extraordinary  runs  happened, 
of  a  very  rare  nature.  One  was  an  hour  and  twenty 
minutes,  without  a  check,  in  which  they  killed  their  fox. 
The  other,  two  hours  and  fifty  minutes,  without  a  cast, 
and  killed.  The  hounds,  in  the  first  run,  kept  well 
together,  and  only  two  horses  performed  it ;  the  rest  of  the 
field  were  unequal  to  its  fleetness.  The  other  run  alluded 
to,  was  performed  by  the  whole  of  the  pack  ;  and  though 
all  the  hounds  were  up  at  the  death,  two  or  three  slackened 
in  their  pace  just  at  the  last.  Only  one  horse  went  the  whole 
of  it.'  ^  But  we  shall  live  to  see  these  evils  remedied. 
Some  person  or  another,  who  has  witnessed  their  extent,  and 
reflected  upon  the  causes,  will,  one  of  these  days,  expose 
them.  We  shall  then  hear  less  of  tired  horses,  and  very 
little  of  those  killed  with  hounds,  and  of  runs  in  which 
only  one  gets  to  the  end,  as  in  the  extract  I  have  just 
quoted.  Common  sense,  indeed,  must  at  once  direct  us, 
if  we  but  give  it  a  chance  to  do  so.  If  hounds  are  every 
year  better  bred,  and  go  faster,  the  breed  of  our  hunters 
must  also  be  higher  and  more  pure.  As  the  condition  of 
the  former  improves,  so  must  that  of  the  latter ;  and  I 
have  one  consolation  left  me  from  the  unfortunate  occur- 
rence which  has  called  forth  these  remarks.  I  have  made 
up  my  mind,  in  future,  to  give  my  horses  every  chance  in 
their  favour  that  it  is  in  my  power  to  aff"ord  them.  I  have 
determined  never  to  purchase  a  horse  not  quite,  or  nearly, 
thorough-bred,  so  long  as  I  hunt  in  Leicestershire  ;  nor 
will  I  ever  throw  a  hunter  quite  out  of  condition  again. 
'  Let  them  down  a  little  in  the  summer,'  are  my  orders  to 
my  groom  ;  '  but  lose  not  what  has  caused  you  so  much 

1  See  "  The  Meynellian  System  ;  by  the  late  John  Hawkes,  Esq.," 
p.  21.  It  is  more  than  probable  that  one  of  the  three  horses  thus 
distinguished  was  ridden  by  Mr.  Hawkes  himself,  one  of  the  finest ' 
horsemen  of  his  day,  both  over  a  country  and  over  a  course.  Many 
of  my  readers  will' remember  The  Printer,  and  Featherlegs ;  and 
that  Mr.  H.  ahoays  rode  horses  of  pure  blood. 


48  THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN 

trouble,  and  me  such  expense,  to  obtain.  Lose  not  that 
which,  in  fact,  makes  a  middling  horse  a  good  one  ;  for  I 
fully  agree  with  what  I  heard  that  tine  sportsman,  John 
Warde,  say,  the  other  day,  at  the  cover-side  of  the  Pytchley 
country,  ^half  the  goodness  of  horses  goes  in  at  their  mouths.'  " 

"  Will  yol^  favour  us,"  said  Mr.  Raby  to  his  guest,  "  with 
the  names  of  some  others  of  the  conspicuous  sportsmen 
who  have  been  hunting  in  Leicestershire  with  Mr.  Meynell 
in  your  time  ? " 

"With  the  greatest  pleasure,"  answered  Mr.  Somerby. 
"  You  will  excuse  my  giving  them  as  they  present  them- 
selves to  my  recollection  at  the  moment.  There  have 
been  amongst  them — The  Duke  of  Orleans ;  Lords 
Maynard,  Spencer,  Sefton,  Winchelsea,  Harborough, 
Stair,  Craven,  Robert  Spencer,  Charles  Manners,  Robert 
Manners,  Paget,  Villiers,  Egmont,  Chatham,  and  Somer- 
ville  ;  Sirs  Carnaby  Haggerstone,  John  Shelley,  William 
Gordon,  Harry  Featherstonehaugh ;  General  Tarletou, 
Colonel  Carter ;  Messrs.  Loraine  Smith,  Prince  Boothby, 
Charles  Wyndham,  Lambton,  Ralph  Lambton,  Forester, 
Cholmondeley,  George  Germaine,  Martin  Hawke,  Jacob 
Wardell,  Lemon,  Cradock,  Thomas  and  Robert  Grosvenor, 
Goodhere,  Norman,  Arthur  Paget,  Conyers,  Morant, 
Assheton  Smith,  Pole,  Saville,  Musters,  the  two  Heyricks, 
John  Hawkes,  Lockley,  Charles  Meynell,  Hugo  Meynell, 
junior,  Orby  Hunter,  Rose  Price,  Peach,  Boates,  Robert 
Montgomery,  Berkeley  Craven,  Puleston,  John  IVEadocks, 
Vanneck,  Bennet,  Graham,  Harnes  (of  Glen),  Nedham, 
&c.  &c.  There  are  also  some  excellent  sportsmen  amongst 
the  graziers  of  this  part  of  Leicestershire,  and  none  better 
than  Deverell  and  George  Henton.  Neither  inust  I  omit 
Ted  Hodges  of  Leicester,  a  very  conspicuous  sportsman,  in 
every  acceptation  of  the  word  ;  as  a  judge  of  cocking,  a 
nonpareil. 

"  Then,  again,  there  is  a  new  set  just  come  among  us — 
Lords  Plymouth  and  Foley  ;  Sirs  Henry  Peyton,  Stephen 
Glynne,  and  Wheeler  Cuff;  Messrs.  Rawlinson,  the 
Lindows  (twin  brothers,  and  capital  hands),  Rolleston,  and 
Frank  Forester  ;  the  two  Bruens  from  Ireland  (with  as 
many  horses  as  would  do  for  a  country  fair),  Lloyd,  the 
dandy  Welchman,  Apperley,  and  Thomas  Assheton  Smith, 
better  known  as  '  the  Tom  Smith.' " 

Here  the  conversation  was  interrupted  (Mr.  Egerton 
was  about  to  speak)  by  Frank  exclaiming  to  his  father, 


J  UavrU,  sculp. 
DICK      KNIGHT 


THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN  49, 

"  Oh,  papa,  and  has  Mr.  Somerby  hunted  in  the  Pytchley 
country  1  Would  you  ask  him  to  tell  us  something  about 
Dick  Knight,  whose  picture,  representing  him  topping 
the  park-pales  on  Contract,  our  huntsman  has  got  in  his 
parlour  ? " 

"You  unreasonable  rogue,"  said  Mr.  Raby  ;  "I  wonder 
what  you  will  ask  next  ?  " 

Mr.  Somerby,  however,  having  overheard  the  question, 
good-naturedly  replied  to  it  : 

"  Why,  Francis,  I  am  scarcely  old  enough  to  have  seen 
Dick  Knight  in  his  very  best  day  ;  but  the  prints  which 
you  speak  of  give  an  excellent  'idea  of  the  man  ;  and, 
from  the  knowledge  the  amateur  artist,  to  whose  pencil 
we  are  indebted  for  them,  had  of  him,  as  a  huntsman  and  a 
sportsman,  we  must  give  them  full  credit  for  accuracy  of 
design  and  character.  Has  he  not  exhibited  him  displav- 
ing  all  the  good  properties  which  his  calling,  as  hunts- 
man to  foxhounds,  requires  ?  In  the  first  place,  what  a 
horseman  does  he  appear  1  How  firm  and  beautiful  is  his 
seat  in  the  tremendous  leap  he  is  taking,  obliged  as  he  is, 
at  the  same  time,  to  stoop  forward  on  his  horse  to  avoid 
the  bough  of  a  tree  !  Then,  what  zeal  he  evinces  !  and 
what  coolness,  while  changing  his  horse  during  the  run,  the 
opportunity  being  aftbrded  by  his  fortunately  passing  his 
own  stable  door.  Instead  of  being  in  a  hurry  to  mount,  he 
casts  his  eyes  towards  his  hounds  and  the  country,  before 
he  puts  his  foot  into  the  stirrup.  Then,  see  him  with  his 
hounds  at  fault,  and  observe  his  anxiety  for  their  safety, 
whilst  the  colt  is  gambolling  in  the  midst  of  them  ;  and| 
lastly,  mark  him  at  the  finish,  with  the  dead  fox  in  his 
hand.  '  JVho-whoojJ !  was  never  so  carried,'  cries  he,  on 
dismounting  from  the  fore-horse  of  the  team,  whose  state 
of  exhaustion  is  so  admirably  depicted  bv  the  artist,  that 
we  could  swear  that,  in  one  more  field,  the  nag  must  have 
died,  if  the  fox  had  not.  In  fact,  I  have  always  told  my 
friend,  Loraine  Smith,  for  he  claims  the  honour  of  having 
been  the  designer,  that  no  hunting  prints  have  ever  yet 
appeared  anything  like  so  good  as  those  of  which  we  have 
been  speaking  ;  neither  do  I  believe  there  have  been 
many  better  huntsmen  than  the  celebrated  Dick  Knight. 

"  Perhaps  you  will  like  an  anecdote  or  two,  Frank  " 

resumed  Mr.  Somerbv,  "  of  this  noted  man.     His  master 

IS  Earl  Spencer,  and  a  fine  sportsman  his  lordship  is.     On 

his  return  from  London,  last  year,  at  the  end  of  the  gay 

4 


50  THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN 

season,  almost  the  first  thing  Dick  said  to  him,  was,  that 
he  '  feared  the  country  was  about  to  be  ruined.'  Lord 
Spencer  being  then  high  in  the  administration  of  it, 
naturally  associated  the  idea  with  the  general  ruin  of 
Great  Britain,  whereas  Dick  was  only  alluding  to 
Northamptonshire  as  a  hunting  country.  '  What  now, 
then,    Dick?'   said  his   lordship.       'Why,    my   lord,'  he 

replied,  'they  are  going  to  cut  a  d d  canal  through 

the  best  part  of  our  country  ;  '  a  thing  of  all  others,  by 
the  way,  most  wanted  by  the  inhabitants  of  it,  and 
which  would  benefit,  instead  of  injuring  it,  as  a  hunting 
country." 

"  How  so,  Somerby  ?  "  said  Sir  William. 

"  Why,  in  consequence  of  the  present  great  scarcity  of 
coals,  from  want  of  water  carriage,"  continued  Mr. 
Somerby,  "  you  will  find,  in  many  parts  of  Xorthampton- 
shire,  three  high  and  strong  blackthorn  hedges,  where 
one  only  would  be  required.  The  object  in  planting 
three,  is,  that  one  may  be  fit  to  cut  down  for  fuel  at  a 
certain  period,  and  the  others  follow  in  succession.  I 
have  often  been  stopped  by  these  fences,  which,  as  you 
may  imagine,  nothing  without  wings  can  get  over. 

"  But  the  other  anecdote,"  resumed  Mr.  Somerby ; 
^'  I  must  not  forget  that,  as  I  see  my  little  friend  is  on  the 
listen  for  it.  There  was  a  parson  in  the  Pytchley  country, 
sadly  given  to  press  upon  hounds,  a  fault  never  forgiven 
by  huntsmen.  It  happened  that,  one  day,  the  parson 
dropped  short  in  a  deep  brook,  and  as  he  was  floundering 
about  in  the  middle  of  it,  Dick  rode  clean  over  him,  with 
these  words  in  his  mouth :  '  His  reverence  sivims  like  a  cork  ; 
hut  never  mind  him ;  this  is  only  Friday,  and  he  won't 
be  icanted  till  Sunday.'  At  a  subsequent  time  there  was 
another  of  these  inconsiderate  riders  with  his  hounds, 
who,  although  well  known  in  the  sporting  world, 
happened  to  be  a  stranger  to  Dick  Knight.  Moreover, 
he  was  clad  in  a  blue  coat,  which  added  nothing  to  his 
appearance  and  character,  in  Dick's  eyes.  At  length  the 
gentleman  got  an  awful  fall,  his  horse  rolling  over  him, 
and  he  lay  as  if  he  were  dead.  '  There,'  exclaimed  Dick  ; 
'thank  God  we  have  done  with  you!''     In  a  few  minutes, 

however,  Mr.  G was  in  his  place  again,  when  Knight, 

observing  him,  coolly  said  to  himself,  '  A  resurrection  before 
the  time,  to  a  certainty.  I  had  hoped  never  to  have  seen  you 
again  in  this  world.     I  wonder  what  you'll  do  next  ? ' " 


I  |4^^ 


THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN  51 

"What  a  funnr  fellou-  that  Dick  Knight  must  have 
been,  papa,"  said  JFrank. 

"  Oh,"  said  Sir  William,  "  we  have  not  done  with  him 
yet,  Frank.  I  was  out  with  the  Pytchley,  once,  when  we 
thought  we  were  in  for  a  blank  day.  '  In  fact,  it  was 
three  o'clock,  and  not  a  tongue  to  a  fox  had  been  heard. 
At  last  a  hound,  called  Abelard,  spoke  :  '  Hark  I '"  said 
Dick,  holding  up  his  cap,  that  he  might  hear  the  better  ; 
'that's  Ahelard.  A  rejprieve,  by  the  Lord."  I  need  hardlv 
add  that  he  was  right,  for  Abelard  was  the  best  hound  in 
the  pack,  and  his  blood  is  in  most  of  the  best  kennels  in 
England  ;  the  blood  of  the  Pytchley  Abelard,  indeed,  is  a 
passport  to  any  hound." 

^"But  we  have  omitted  the  best  anecdote  of  Dick 
Knight,"  said  Mr.  Somerby,  "  and  my  young  friend  here 
must  have  that.  Dick  was  a  great  favourite  with  his 
noble  master,  and,  like  all  favourites,  now  and  then 
presumed  upon  it.  Having  taken  a  tremendous  leap, 
one  day,  on  Contract,  Lord  Spencer,  who  was  next 
to  him,  pulled  up  at  it,  and  paused.  'Came  along,  my 
lord,'  roared  Dick  ;  '  the  longer  you  look,  the  less  you  will 
like  it.' 

"The  incident  that  led  to  the  masterlv  execution  of 
these  prints  was  a  spirit  of  jealousy  between  Mr.  Assheton 
Smith  1  and  Dick  Knight,  when  they  met  together,  on  one 
particular  occasion,  in  the  field,  'the  former  riding  a 
celebrated  hunter  called  Egmont,  and  the  latter  the 
equally  celebrated  Contract.  In  fact,  it  was  Quom  fersvs 
Pytchley.  The  prints  were  first  published  bv  Jukes,  a 
great  printseller  in  London,  who  is  said  to  have  realised 
fifteen  hundred  pounds  by  the  copvright,  which  was 
made  a  present  to  him  by  Mr.  Loraine  Smith. 

"Loraine  Smith,  on  another  occasion,  sketched  himself 
m  the  act  of  fording  a  river  after  hounds,  with  his  coat- 
skirts  tucked  up  to  his  shoulders,  and  therebv  getting  a 
considerable  start  of  the  rest  of  the  field,  with  the  excep- 
tion ot  Lord  Maynard,  who  chanced  to  foUow  him  •  and 
these  lines  written  underneath  the  print  : 

'^y  following  Smith,  a  cute  chap  at  a  pinch, 
;j\T]0  knows  all  the  depths  of  the  brooks  to  an  inch, 
Lord  Maj-nard,  too,  followed,  and  both  did  embark 
Unly  wetting  their  tails  just  below  water-mark.'  "     ' 


Father  of  the  present  Thomas  Assheton  Smith. 


52  THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN 

"I  conclude,"  said  Mr.  Eaby,  "that  Mr.  Loraine  Smitli 
is  a  good  man  across  a  country." 

"  Few  better  for  his  weight,"  replied  Mr.  Somerby  ; 
"his  great  excellences,  as  a  rider  to  hounds,  are,  his 
judgment,  and  fine  e^-e  to  direct  him  in  taking  his  line. 
On  the  12th  of  December  1792,  he  went  to  the  end  of, 
perhaps,  the  finest  run  that  Leicestershire  had  afforded 
up  to  that  period,  called  the  Whetstone  day,  the  fox 
haying  been  found  in  Whetstone  Gorse,  between  Lutter- 
worth and  Melton.  It  lasted  upwards  of  two  hours,  with 
only  one  check,  and  all  over  grass.  Still,  the  person  who 
most  distinguished  himself  was  Jacob  Wardle,  who, 
although  he  (with  many  others)  went  away  with  part  of 
the  pack,  which  could  not  be  stopped,  and  only  got  up  to 
the  main  body  of  hounds  just  as  they  recovered  the  scent, 
at  a  check  at  the  end  of  a  very  severe  burst,  took  the  lead 
and  kept  it  until  the  hounds  ran  into  their  fox,  at  the 
expiration  of  the  time  mentioned.  The  horse  he  rode — 
a  thorough-bred  grey,  afterwards  called  Whetstone— had 
never  been  ridden  as  a  hunter  before  in  his  life,  and  was 
purchased  by  Forester,  for  250  guineas,  in  the  field.  _  Lord 
Maynard,  however,  seeing  the  distress  this  horse  exhibited, 
pronounced  that  he  would  never  be  himself  again  ; 
neither  was  he.  Lord  Paget,  who  rode  a  horse  called 
Slender ;  Pole,  on  True  Blue  ;  and  Forester,  on  Sweeper, 
also  distinguished  themselves  on  this  memorable  day. 

"  Mr.  Loraine  Smith,  on  this  day,  rode  a  horse  he  had 
not  long  before  purchased  of  Mr.  Berridge  ;  but,  not 
having  had  a  trial  of  his  merits,  he  had  not  then  given 
him  a  name.  It  was,  however,  by  plunging  with  him  into 
the  river  Wellin,  near  Langton,  which  he  did  at  no  small 
risk  with  a  horse  somewhat  beaten,  that  he  was  indebted 
for  a  sight  of  the  conclusion  of  this  splendid  run.  He 
had  the  good  luck  to  meet  the  hounds,  evidently  running 
into  their  fox,  pointing  for  Market  Harborough,  having  no 
one  in  company  with  them  but  Mr.  W^ardle.  ^  Mr.  Smith's 
horse  soon  afterwards  declined  ;  and  Mr.  Wardle,  on  this 
young  and  raw  horse,  would  have  been  a  good  two  miles 
ahead  of  any  other  man  in  the  field,  had  the  fox  not  been 
headed  nearly  at  the  finish,  which  enabled  several  of  his 
brother  sportsmen  to  witness  it  ;  and  a  glorious  finish  it 
was,  too,  in  the  middle  of  a  large  grass  field.  But,  as 
regards  Wardle  and  his  raw  horse,  the  most  extraordinary 
part   of  the  story  is  yet  to  come.     The  country  about 


THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN  53 

Langton  was  then  just  newly  inclosed,  yet  lie  jumped  all 
the  strong  post  and  rail  fences  without  getting  one  fall. 
Neither  was  his  crossing  the  river  Wellin  undeserving  of 
notice.  He  pushed  his  horse  before  him,  into  deep  water, 
leaped  upon  his  back  whilst  he  was  in  the  act  of  swimming, 
and  thus  was  carried  to  the  opposite  bank  ! 

"  I  remember  hearing  of  another  desperate  run,  in  which 
Mi\  Loraine  Smith  distinguished  himself  greatly  by  his 
fine  judgment  in  riding  to  hounds.  On  a  day,  with  the 
same  pack  (Meynell's),  called  '  the  Alsops-house  day,'  he 
appeared  at  cover  on  a  five-year-old  horse,  of  his  own 
breeding,  called  Shopleton ;  and  one,  by  his  own  admission, 
not  of  high  form  as  a  hunter.  He  likewise  got  a  bad  start, 
and  never  could  get  near  the  hounds  till  he  met  them  on 
Leak  Hills,  on  their  return  from  Gotham  Wood.  Not- 
withstanding this  disadvantage,  towards  the  end  of  the 
run,  which  embraced  an  immense  sweep  of  country,  him- 
self and  a  gentleman  named  Deverill  were  the  only  two 
that  continued  to  keep  with  the  hounds  till  they  came  to 
Kinnoulton  cover,  when  his  (Smith's)  horse  slackened 
pace.  Deverill  went  on,  and  was  the  only  man  whose 
horse  could  raise  a  canter  when  the  fox  was  dying.  He 
rode  a  mare,  called  Gaylass,  got  by  Lord  Grosvenor's 
famous  Mambrino,  whose  fine  picture  by  Stubbs  has  been 
so  much  admired  ;  and,  in  consequence  of  her  perform- 
ance this  day,  she  was  sold  to  Sir  John  Shelley,  and  by 
him  to  Sir  Harry  Featherstone,  in  both  instances  at  large 
prices,  remaining  a  first-class  hunter,  in  Leicestershire, 
for  several  successive  years.  It  was  computed,  at  the 
time,  that,  by  his  knowledge  of  the  country,  and  the 
points  the  fox  was  making,  Smith  saved  three  miles  of 
ground  in  the  course  of  this  run,  w^hich  is  the  principal 
cause  of  my  having  detailed  the  particulars  of  it  to  you." 

"  Now,  Frank,"  said  Mr.  Eaby,  "  you  have  had  a  great 
treat ;  so  take  yourself  off  to  the  ladies.  I  daresay  you 
will  dream  of  Leicestershire  and  Dick  Knight." 

•'  We  shall  see  him  in  Leicestershire,  some  day  or 
another,"  observed  Mr.  Somerby. 

"  No,"  replied  Mr.  Raby ;  "^^  at  least,  I  hope  not. 
Melton  Mowbray  is  no  place  for  younger  brothers  :  and 
I  fear  it  has  often  proved  too  much  for  elder  ones," 


54  THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN 


CHAPTER    III 

Devoted  to  rural  scenes  and  characters,  and  combining  matter  of 
amusement  and  instruction,  "witli  maxims  of  sound^heory,  and 
examples  well  worthy  of  imitation. 

THE  next  day  being  Sunday,  Frank  had  matters  of  a 
graver  kind  to  attend  to — all  very  necessary,  how- 
ever, to  guide  him  in  the  "  race '''  he  had  to  run  :  and 
the  plain,  comprehensible  sermons  he  heard  in  Amstead 
Church  were  admirably  adapted  to  that  purpose.  But, 
on  the  Monday,  a  pursuit  was  proposed  to  him,  by  Jem 
Perren.  the  keeper's  son,  quite  as  much  to  his  taste,  at 
that  early  age.  This  was  a  game,  once  in  much  vogue  in 
England,  and  especially  in  counties  bordering  on  the  sea- 
coast,  known  by  the  name  of  •'  a  cro^rs-nest  race  ; "'" — that 
is  to  say,  either  a  carrion- crow's  nest,  or  a  particular  one 
in  a  rookery,  was  to  be  climbed  for,  by  three  boys,  and  he 
who  first  put  his  hand  into  it  was  the  winner.  Xow  this 
was  not  at  all  to  Andrew's  taste  ;  so  that  Frank  had  to 
look  abroad  for  his  competitors  ;  but  he  had  no  difficulty 
in  procuring  them.  One  was  the  son  of  the  rector,  a  fine 
and  spirited  lad,  and  of  the  same  year  with  himself  ;  and 
the  other,  a  son  of  a  neighbouring  gentleman,  much  of  a 
like  kidney. 

'•  That  shall  be  the  nest,"  said  Frank,  pointing  to  one  in 
the  highest  tree  in  the  rookery.  ''  Surely  not,"  said  young 
Chapman  ;  "  the  boughs  are  very  slender  ;  indeed  they 
look  as  if  they  would  break  with  our  weight."  Jem 
Perren  was  likewise  of  this  opinion,  and  began  to  lament 
having  proposed  the  day's  amusement.  "  Nonsense,"  said 
Frank,  "'  the  tree  is  alive  and  good  at  the  head,  and  I'll 
be  bound  it  will  bear  us."  In  fact,  possunt,  quia  posse 
i-identur;'-  was  his  motto ;  and  he  thus  addressed  his 
competitors  :  —  "  Now,  my  boys,  off  with  your  jackets  1 
when  Jem  gives  the  word,  let  us  start." 

The  race  is  not  always  to  the  swift,  but  it  is  sometimes 
to  the  bold;  and  this  was  the  case  here.  It  was  well 
enough  contested,  until  the  party  arrived  within  a  few 
yards  of  the  summit,  when  the  apparent  slightness  of  the 
boughs,  together  with  the  frightful  abyss  below,  caused 
young  Chapman  and  the  other  boy  to  pause.  But  Frank 
Was  not  to  be  daunted.     With   the  branches  trembling 


THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN  55 

under  him,  onward  he  went  to  his  point,  and  putting  his 
hand  into  the  nest,  cried  out,  "  Who-whoop ! — I've  done  it  ! 
Here  are  two  eggs  in  the  nest,"  which  he  instantly  put 
into  his  mouth,  to  secure  them  from  being  broken  in  the 
descent. 

"  Glad  to  see  you  safe  down,  sir,"  said  Jem  Perren  ;  "  I 
was  mortally  frightened  for  you  ;  and,  if  you  had  tumbled, 
what  would  my  lady  have  said  to  me  ? " 

"Oh,"  said  Frank,  "if  I  was,  like  Andrew,  to  do 
nothing  but  what  mamma  likes,  I  shouldn't  have  much 
fun.  But,  Jem,  I  am  sorry  to  see  the  rooks  have  begun 
to  lay,  for  it  shows  that  it  will  soon  be  over  with  hunting 
for  this  year.  How  curiously  these  eggs  are  speckled  I 
but  they  are  not  all  speckled  alike." 

At  this  moment  Mr.  Egerton  made  his  appearance,  and 
asked  who  had  been  taking  rook's  eggs,  as  it  was  Mr. 
Raby's  orders  they  should  not  be  touched.  Frank,  at 
once,  confessed  himself  the  culprit,  having  suffered 
enough,  on  a  former  occasion,  from  concealing  the  truth, 
— in  plainer  English,  telling  a  direct  lie. 

"  Do  you  see  what  misery  you  have  inflicted  on  those 
poor  birds,  wdiicli  are  hovering  round  their  empty  nest  ?  " 
continued  Mr.  Egerton.  "For  my  own  part,  I  have 
always  been  a  great  admirer  of  birds — their  notes,  their 
nests,  their  eggs,  and  all  the  economy  of  their  lives  ; — nor 
have  we,  throughout  the  order  of  creation,  any  beings  that 
so  continually  engage  our  attention  as  these  our  feathered 
companions.  It  is  my  opinion,  that  whosoever  can  exercise 
cruelty  towards  a  sparrow  or  a  wren,  the  most  insignificant 
of  birds,  would,  when  circumstances  enabled  him,  be  cruel 
to  his  fellow-creatures." 

"But,  sir,"  observed  Jem  Perren,  "father  says,  'take 
every  nest  you  see,  Jem  ;  they  are  nothing  but  varmint ' : 
so  I  knows  not  what  to  do  ;  and  you  knows,  sir,  our 
farmers  gives  sixpence  a  dozen  for  young  sj)arrows  ;  and 
in  the  last  year's  churchwarden's  account,  I  seed,  with  my 
own  eyes,  seventeen  shillings  paid  for  seventeen  dozen 
tomtit's  heads,  three  and  fourpence  of  which  came  to  my 
share." 

This  was  something  of  a  damper  for  fine  sentiment ;  and 
Mr.  Egerton,  taking  out  his  watch,  observed,  that  it  wanted 
but  half  an  hour  of  dinner  time . 

"  What's  to  be  done  to-day  ? "  said  Mr.  Egerton  to  his 
pupils,  after  school,  on  the  morrow  following  the  crow's- 


56         THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN 

nest  race.  "  I  am  going  in  the  phaeton,  with  mamma,  to 
call  at  the  Grange,"  answered  Andrew ;  whilst  Frank 
admitted  that  he  was  informed,  by  Dick  Perren,  of  a 
marten  cat,  that  he  had  seen  in  the  big  wood  ;  and  he 
believed  he  could  show  him  the  tree  in  which  it  makes  its 
bed.  *'  I  suppose,  sir,  there  is  no  harm  in  killing  him,  if 
we  can  ;  as  Dick  says  he  not  only  destroys  the  game,  but 
the  huntsman  to  the  foxhounds  will  be  very  glad  to  have 
him  put  out  of  the  way  ;  for  his  hounds  have  run  him 
twice,  without  being  able  to  catch  him,  and  he  scratched 
some  of  them  sadly." 

"  The  marten  cat,"  said  Mr.  Egerton,  "  is  a  very  pre- 
datory animal,  and,  as  such,  there  can  be  no  harm  in 
■destroying  him  ;  and  if  you  take  him  alive,  which  I  con- 
clude you  will  do,  I  wish  to  see  him  previously  to  your 
p)utting  him  to  death,  for  he  is  a  very  beautiful  animal. 
Then,  again,  of  all  those  called  vermin,  we  have  none 
more  admirably  fitted  for  a  predatory  life  than  the  marten 
cat.  He  is  endowed  with  great  strength  of  body,  for  his 
size  ;  is  remakably  quick  and  active  in  all  his  motions  ; 
has  an  eye  so  clear  and  so  perceptive,  that  nothing  can  stir 
without  his  observation  ;  and,  to  complete  his  accomplish- 
ments, he  has  a  perfect  sense  of  smelling.  Again,  his  feet 
are  peculiarly  adapted  to  his  habits  ;  not  treading  upright 
on  the  balls  alone,  but  with  the  joint  bending,  the  fleshy 
parts  being  imbedded  in  a  very  soft  hair  ;  so  that  the 
tread  of  the  animal,  even  on  decayed  leaves,  in  a  wood,  is 
scarcely  audible  by  its  prey,  which  it,  consequently,  very 
seldom  misses  getting  into  its  clutches.  In  fact,  every- 
thing combines  to  make  him  a  very  destructive  animal  ; 
and,  as  he  is  neither  protected  by  laws  nor  privileges,  I  have 
often  wondered  that  he  has  so  long  been  suffered  to  exist 
in  so  populous  a  country  as  this.  I  find  he  was  an  object 
of  chase  in  former  days,  being  mentioned,  among  the 
beasts  of  venery,  in  the  'Book  of  St.  Albans,'  by  Dame 
Juliana  Berners." 

In  about  a  fortnight  from  this  time,  Mr.  Baby's  harriers 
ceased  hunting  for  the  season,  and  the  foxhounds  went  to 
finish  theirs  in  a  distant  part  of  the  country,  in  which 
they  had  a  kennel.  This  was,  then,  the  commencement 
of  what  are  called  the  "  dead  months."  An  active  mind 
like  that  of  our  hero,  however,  could  not  remain  without 
some  stirring  pursuit ;  so  he  devoted  much  of  his  leisure 
hours  to  watching  the  operations   of   Perren,   the  head 


THE   LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN  57 

keeper,  in  breeding  and  feeding  pheasants,  of  which  there 
were,  at  that  time,  but  few  on  Mr.  Baby's  estates,  or, 
indeed,  on  any  other  in  the  county.  Now,  Perren  was 
clever  in  this  branch  of  his  calling ;  and  a  few  of  his 
maxims  were  so  well  worthy  of  imitation,  that  his  young 
master  cherished  them  through  life.  Amongst  them  were 
the  following  : — 

"In  a  young  breeding-stock,  never  leave  more  than  one 
cock  to  seven  hens,  or  as  near  to  that  proportion  as  you 
can. 

"  When  the  hen  pheasant  is  laying,  or  sitting,  hang  a 
bit  of  red  cloth,  or  a  few  links  of  iron  chain,  near  her  nest, 
and  no  fox  will  molest  her. 

"  Have  a  few  patches  of  buck- wheat  sown  on  the  borders 
of  covers  intended  as  j^heasant  preserves.  They  operate 
like  the  salt-box  in  the  dovecot,  in  attaching  the  birds  to 
the  spot. 

"  When  you  feed  in  the  winter,  heans  are  the  most  econo- 
mical food,  because  the  small  birds  cannot  eat  them,  as 
they  do  the  lesser  grain.     The  small  tick-bean  is  the  best. 

"  The  most  dangerous  time  for  pheasants,  from  the 
attacks  of  vermin,  such  as  foxes,  &c.,  is  after  a  wet  night  in 
the  moulting  season.  They  are  then  naturally  weak,  and 
their  wings  being  heavy  from  rain,  they  do  not  rise  so 
quickly  as  at  other  times.     They  should  now  be  watched. 

"  When  rearing  pheasants  by  hand,  observe  the  following 
rules  :  During  the  first  month,  feed  with  hard  egg  and 
ants'  eggs,  but  give  nothing  to  drink.  Feed  early,  but 
don't  let  the  young  birds  go  abroad  until  the  dew  has 
quite  disappeared.  Keep  them  very  clean,  and  shut  them 
up  at  sunset. 

"  Second  month :— Feed  on  wheat,  barley,  and  ants' 
eggs.  Being  now  subject  to  vermin,  let  them  be  supplied 
with  sand  to  roll  in  ;  and  if  the  pip  seizes  them,  rub  their 
bills  with  garlic,  finely  bruised,  in  tar. 

"  Third  month  :— When  the  new  tail-feathers  appear, 
danger  is  always  at  hand.  Give  them  plenty  of  ants'  eggs, 
and  put  them  out,  by  day,  on  a  white  clover  field,  but  not 
exposed  to  sun.  You  may  give  them  white  clover-seed, 
mixed  with  other  grain." 

Our  hero  being  observed,  on  one  of  the  subsequent 
evenings,  by  Mr.  Egerton,  in  earnest  conversation  with  his 
father,  in  the  drawing-room,  was  thus  addressed  by  him  : 
— "  AVhat  is  in  the  wind,  now,  Francis  ?     I  perceive  you 


58  THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN 

liave  been  coaxing  voiir  father  for  something"  "  Why, 
sir,"  replied  Frank,"  "Jem  Perren  tells  me  that  Mr. 
Wright's  otter-hounds  meet  at  Cranby  Mills  to-morrow 
morniug,  at  five  o'clock  ;  and  he  has  consented  to  my 
going  out  with  them,  provided  the  huntsman  accompanies 
me,  to  see  that  I  do  not  get  into  danger  ;  but  there  is  no 
fear  of  that,  as  I  am  only  to  take  my  leaping-pole." 

"  What !  "  exclaimed  Andrew.  "Does  Mr.  Wright  keep 
hounds  ?  I  always  thought  he  was  so  poor  that  he  could 
scarcely  keep  himself  and  family,  much  less  hounds." 

"  Why,  I  fear,  Andrew,  what  you  say  is  too  true  ;  and, 
as  Wright  is  a  good,  worthy  fellow,  I  wish  he  was  better 
off;  but  it  shows  how  innate,  in  man,  is  the  passion 
for  the  chase,  when  he  will  forego,  as  poor  Wright  must, 
many  of  the  comforts,  and  even  conveniences  of  life,  to 
indulge  it." 

On  the  following  morning,  at  the  early  hour  of  live, 
Frank  Raby  and  the  huntsman  were  at  the  Mill,  where 
Mr.  Wright  was  in  readiness  for  the  sport,  which  he  had 
little  doubt  would  ensue,  as  he  had  seen  some  very  fresh 
spraints  (excrements)  on  the  banks  the  evening  before, 
although  he  had  failed  in  marking  an  otter  to,  or  lodging 
him  in,  his  couch.  He  had  but  three  couples  of  hounds, 
and  one  three  parts  bull-terrier  ;  but  all  the  party  were 
j)ro\ided  with  spears,  which  likewise  served  them  for 
leaping-poles. 

The  brook  intended  to  be  tried,  having  been  "  let  off," 
as  the  term  is,  by  shutting  down  the  sluices  at  the  mill 
above,  the  banks  and  shallows  were  in  a  good  state  for  the 
purpose  ;  and  in  less  than  half  a  mile,  the  seal  (or  foot- 
ball) of  a  full-grown  otter  was  discerned,  and  the  scent 
soon  got  warm.  The  ear  of  these  animals  being  very  acute, 
they  seldom  wait  to  be  surprised  in  their  couch,  and  such 
was  the  case  here.  A  view-halloo  was  given  by  Mr. 
Wright,  on  seeing  the  object  of  his  pursuit  dart  into  the 
stream,  from  the  hollow  of  an  old  willow  tree,  about  four 
feet  from  the  ground  ;  and  now  the  chase  began.  It  was 
for  some  time  doubtful,  from  the  superiority  of  the  animal 
over  the  dogs  in  swimming  against  the  stream,  and  no 
opportunity  having  occurred,  during  his  vents  (i.e.  when 
rising  to  the  top  of  the  water  to  respire),  to  strike  him  with 
a  spear,  as  to  what  the  issue  would  be,  whether  blood 
would  be  the  result  or  not.  In  one  of  his  vents,  however, 
whilst  out  of  reach  of  the  spearsman,  an  opportunity  did 


THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN  59 

present  itself  to  the  bull-terrier,  wlio  leaped  from  the  bank 
on  bis  prey,  and  a  terrible  conflict  commenced.  The  otter 
instantly  dived  below  the  surface,  carrying  the  dog  with 
him  ;  and,  had  not  the  severity  of  his  bite  obliged  the 
otter  to  let  go  his  hold.  Lion  would  have  been  very  shortly 
drowned.  But  the  animal  had  received  a  wound  from 
the  strong  jaws  of  Lion,  which  so  cripj^led  his  powers, 
that  in  less  than  half  an  hour  from  the  time  he  was  first 
found,  Mr.  Wright  exhibited  him  on  his  spear-head,  to- 
the  great  joy  of  the  party,  and  particularly  of  Frank 
Raby,  who,  to  use  the  words  of  Taplin,  one  of  the  sporting 
authorities  of  that  day,  was  "  ecstatic  with  delight."  Un- 
able to  ^find  another,  the  sportsmen  returned  to  their 
homes,  Frank  and  the  huntsman  having  been  previously 
refreshed  by  the  honest-hearted  master  of  this  small  pack. 

"  Well,  Frank,"  said  Mr.  Raby  to  him,  on  his  return, 
"  how  do  you  like  otter-hunting  ? "  "  Oh,  very  good  fun," 
he  replied  ;  "  but  not  so  good  as  hunting  with  our  own 
hounds,  because  it  is  so  soon  over,  for  one  reason  ;  and 
again,  I  don't  much  like  hunting  on  foot.  But,  papa,  I 
could  have  told  all  about  it  from  those  lines  Mr.  Egerton 
read  to^  us  last  night,  in  the  library,  from  Some^ville's 
'  Chase.'  It  is  quite  curious  how  well  he  described  every- 
thing I  saw  with  Mr.  Wright's  hounds.  What  a  sports- 
man Mr.  Someville  must  have  been,  eh,  papa  !  " 

^"  Wliy,"  replied  Mr.  Raby,  "  I  am  unable  to  speak  de- 
cidedly on  that  point ;  but  he  was  an  amiable  man,  and 
a  good  country  gentleman;  although,  by  his  liberality 
exceeding  his  means,  he  greatly  injured  his  estate,  but  not 
his  family,  for  he  had  none.  Doctor  Johnson,  however 
who  lately  wrote  his  life,  as  a  poet  (the  Doctor,  I  presume, 
could  say  nothing  of  him  as  a  sjmisman,)  allows  him  one 
merit— that  of  setting  a  good  example  to  men  of  his  own 
class,  by  devoting  part  of  his  time  to  elegant  knowledge  ; 
and  showing,  by  the  subjects  which  his  poetrv  has  adorned, 
that  It  is  practicable  to  be  at  once  a  skilful  sportsman  and 
a  man  ot  letters— a  hint  which  I  trust,  Frank,  vou  will 
take  to  yourself.  But  the  Doctor  could  not  let 'him  off 
without  a  slcq).     He  says—'  He  writes  very  well  for  a  gentle- 

''^^^®^^'"  resumed  Frank,  "I  shouldn't  wonder  but 
VV  likins,  who  drives  tlie  Balloon  coach,  had  been  reading 
what  Dr.  Johnson  said  of  Mr.  Someville;  for,  on  mv 
asking  him,  the  other  day,  if  Sir  John  Inkleton  was  not  a 


6o  THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN 

very  good  coachman  ?  he  answered, '  Whv,  Master  Francis, 
■Sir  John  drives  very  u-ell  for  a  (jejitleman.'" 

As  the  summer  season  approached,  Frank  was  sometimes 
put  to  a  nonplus  for  his  pastime  ;  for,  although  he  was 
making  great  proficiency  in  angling,  and  had  commenced 
trying  his  hand  at  the  gun,  change  was  now  and  then 
sought  for  by  him  ;  and  he  addressed  his  father,  on  the 
eve  of  Whit  Monday,  with — "  To-morrow  is  our  Whitsun 
fair,  papa  ;  I  wish  you  would  let  Andrew  and  myself  go 
to  it.  I  hear  there  is  much  fun  there  after  the  business 
of  the  day  is  over/'' 

"  I  am  glad  to  hear  it,"  replied  the  father  ;  "  all  nations, 
ancient  and  modern,  have  allowed  and  encouraged  sports 
and  festivities  amongst  the  lower  orders  of  the  people,  as 
the  best  means  of  preventing  greater  and  more  serious 
evils  ;  and  he  who  would  check  them,  when  kept  within 
reasonable  bounds,  commits  a  great  mistake.  For  my  own 
part,  I  myself,  as  a  magistrate,  rather  encourage  them, 
than  otherwise  ;  being  convinced  that,  whatever  tends  to 
make  j^eople  hai3py,  tends  to  make  them  good  ;  and  you 
know  we  have  very  little  crime  in  these  parts.  Now,  I 
have  no  objection  to  your  brother  and  yourself  riding  over 
to  the  Whitsun  fair,  in  the  cool  of  the  evening,  taking 
your  words  for  not  getting  into  any  mischief." 

Andrew  and  his  brother  having  partaken  of  an  early 
dinner,  afterwards  proceeded,  on  horseback,  to  the  village 
revels.  And  here  they  met  with  an  incident,  which  it 
may  not  be  amiss  to  relate,  as  a  caution  to  all  fair-goers 
who  are  not  "  wide  awake."  A  person  approached  them 
at  full  speed,  on  rather  a  shabby-looking  pony,  whom  they 
found  to  be  the  son  of  the  miller  at  the  Abbey,  and  one 
who  had  an  excellent  opinion  of  himself,  the  result,  per- 
haps, of  his  old  father's  almost  everyday  boast,  that  "  our 
John  is  a  very  'cute  young  chap,  and  not  to  be  done  by 
any  on  'em."  "  Oh,  young  gentlemen,"  exclaimed  the 
miller,  pulling  up  the  pony  w^ith  a  jerk,  "I  hope  the 
Squire  is  at  home."  "He'^is,"  replied  Andrew;  "but 
what's  the  matter,  John  ? "  "  Oh,  sir,"  resumed  '  our 
John,'  "  I  have  been  sarved  such  a  trick — and  I  could 
have  sworn  the  man  warn't  born  that  could  have  done  it. 
You  know,  gentlemen,  our  four-year-old  colt,  father  bred 
out  of  the  blind  mare,  a  real  soldier^  all  over,  and  honestly 

1  In  the  time  of  wav  it  is  customary  for  dealers  to  say  of  a  liorse 
that  he  would  make  a  good  soldier— meaning  a  troop  horse. 


THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN  6i 

worth  soldier's  price,  or  a  little  more  !  Well,  gentlemen, 
arter  riding  him  only  twice  up  and  down  the  fair,  as  I 
was  turning  him  round  to  go  again,  at  the  corner  of  New 
Street,  up  comes  two  as  respectable-looking  gentlemen  as 
a  man  should  see  in  a  score,  dressed  in  top-boots  and 
leather  breeches,  and  says  to  me,  '  What's  the  price  of  the 
young  nag,  miller  ? '  '  Thirty  guineas,'  says  I  ;  you  know 
1  left  a  little  for  bating.^  ^ Sound?'  says  one.  ^  Quiet  P 
says  t'other.  '  Lord  love  you,  gentlemen,'  says  I,  '  why, 
father  bred  him.  There  isn't  a  sounder  nor  a  gentler 
creature  on  the  face  of  earth,  as  his  mother,  indeed,  was 
afore  him  :  and  he's  all  over  a  soldier,  if  not  an  officer, 
which  father  says  he  is.'  Now,  Master  Eaby,  how  do  you 
think  they  sarved  me?  'Any  objection,  miller,'  says  one 
of  these  chaps — devils,  God  forgive  me.  Master  Eaby — (here 
Frank  could  scarcely  refrain  from  laughing) — 'for  me  to 
throw  my  leg  o'er  the  young  one,  for  a  hundred  yards  or 
so,  and  you  can  hold  my  pony  the  while  ? '  '  None  in  the 
least,  sir,'  says  I  ;  '  ride  him,  by  all  means  ;  you'll  say  you 
never  was  on  the  back  of  a  nicer  nag  in  all  your  life,  and 
by  the  time  he  has  been  one  month  in  the  stable  of  a 
gentleman  like  you,  nobody  wouldn't  know  him  again.' 
XVell,  Master  Eaby,  away  goes  this  chap  on  father's  nag, 
and  away  rattles  t'other  all  sorts  of  stuff  to  me,  such  as — 
how  was  wheat  selling  in  this  country  ?  was  father  a  free- 
holder, or  some  big  gentleman's  tenant  ?  did  we  grind  by 
wind  or  water  ?  and  all  such  questions  as  those.  How- 
somever,  I  soon  found  out  that  father  was  ground  out  of 
his  horse,  clean  enough  ;  for  thinking  it  a  long  time  before 
the  chap  who  was  riding  him  came  back,  I  says  to  t'other 
chap — '  Where  can  the  gentleman  he?'  ' I'll  run  up  this 
street,'  said  he,  '  and  see ' ;  and  so  he  did,  but  I  seed  no 
more  of  our  horse  from  that  time  to  this,  and  all  I've  got 
to  show  for  him  is  this  here  pony  (which  they  tells  me  is 
glandered),  that  the  second  chap  left  with  me  to  hold, 
when  he  run  up  the  street  after  t'other.  Now,  young 
gentlemen,  if  it  warn't  for  father  and  mother,  nobody 
should  have  seen  me  in  the  parish  of  Amstead  again  :  I 
would  have  gone  for  a  soldier,  along  with  father's  colt ; 
for  they  tells  me  he  will  be  at  Bristol  by  to-morrow  night, 
and  away  to  the  army,  in  a  ship,  before  we  could  get  there 
arter  him." 

Here  this  part  of  the  scene  closed;  and  that  which 
1  Twenty-five  was  the  ultimum  price  of  troop  horses. 


62  THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN 

occurred  on  tlie  meeting  between  "cute  John"  and  his 
father  may  be  imagined  by  all  who  have  read  that 
between  the  Vicar  of  Wakefield  and  his  son  Moses,  on 
the  return  of  the  latter  from  a  very  similar  expedition  ; 
neither  can  much  be  said  of  the  appeal  to  the  Squire  of 
Amstead,  as  a  magistrate.  As  for  granting  warrants  for 
two  "  resiDectable-looking  persons  in  leather  breeches  and 
top-boots,"  that  was  quite  out  of  the  question  :  forasmuch 
as,  in  those  days,  half  the  buyers  and  sellers  of  horses  in 
the  fair  were  thus  accoutrecf;  moreover,  in  the  case  of 
these  two  rogues,  it  would  have  been  doubly  useless,  as  no 
doubt  but  the  said  leathers  and  top-boots  were  hidden 
from  sight,  by  smock-frocks,  or  overalls,  as  soon  as  the 
wearers  of  them  were  once  clear  of  the  town  ;  and  at 
least  three  inches  taken  off  the  colt's  tail,  if  he  were  not 
further  disfigured.  All  that  Mr.  Raby  could  do,  was  to 
throw  back  ten  pounds  of  his  rent  to  the  old  miller  at  the 
next  audit-day,  to  console  him  for  his  loss,  and  to  caution 
him,  in  future,  from  making  "our  John'"'  believe  there 
were  not  sharper  fellows  in  a  horse  fair  than  the  son  of  a 
country  miller. 

It  was  the  wish  of  Mr.  Raby  that  his  sons  should  learn 
the  art  of  fishing,  in  its  higher  branches,  if  such  a  term 
may  be  allowed  me  ;  but  he  discouraged  the  practice  of 
angling  with  live  worms  for  small  fish,  as  being  both 
cruel  and  unprofitable.  "  The  art  of  angling,"  he  would 
say,  "  opens  a  wide  field  for  the  naturalist ;  and  is  a 
rational  and  contemplative  amusement — cheap,  and  in- 
structive withal."  Mr.  Egerton,  himself  a  fisherman,  also 
•encouraged  this  sport  in  his  pupils,  reminding  them 
not  only  of  its  antiquity,  but  that^it  was  not  considered 
infra  dig.  by  Homer,  Virgil,  and  other  celebrated  poets, 
when  distinguishing  their  heroes  by  their  professions, 
iDusiness,  or  pursuit,  to  mention  the  "skilful  angler." 

Andrew  entered  heartily  into  this  sport,  and,  by  the 
instructions  of  the  keeper,  Perren,  became  a  rather 
dexterous  fly-fisher ;  he  could  also  take  good  pike  with 
his  trolling-rod,  generally  making  his  bait  an  artificial 
minnow,  or  frog,  by  the  advice  of  his  amiable  tutor. 
"  Why  torment  fishes  or  insects,"  he  would  say,  "  by 
impaling  them  alive  on  hooks,  when  inanimate  objects 
will  be  equally  attractive  as  baits  ?  Besides,  inde- 
pendently of  the  reflection  cast  upon  angling,  from  the 
unnecessary  pain  inflicted,  the  principal  art  of  the  fisher- 


THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN  63 

man  lies  in  his  choice  of  flies.  For  example  :  do  you  not 
remember,  last  summer,  when  you  accompanied  me  to  the 
Grange,  that  Mr.  Holmes,  the  rector,  killed  nearly  as 
man>"  trout  as  the  rest  of  the  party  altogether  ;  and  when 
grayling  fishing,  in  October,  he  actually  filled  his  basket, 
whilst  the  rest  of  us  could  scarcely  take  a  fish  1  Then, 
again,  I  believe  you  heard  the  story  of  Mr.  Musters,  in 
the  preserved  waters  of  his  friend,  near  Uxbridge.  There 
was  a  trout  of  six  pounds  in  a  hole,  which  the  keepers  of 
the  owner  of  the  domain  had  long  tried  to  take,  but  they 
had  always  failed  in  their  attempts.  Mr.  Musters  came 
down  from  London  for  the  purpose,  choosing  a  favour- 
able day, — took  the  fish  at  the  third  throw,  and  gave  the 
keepers  a  guinea." 

"  Pray,  sir,"  inquired  Frank,  "  which  do  you  consider 
to  be  the  best  rivers  for  grayling  ? " 

"  The  Dove  and  the  Trent,"  replied  Mr.  Egerton,  "  are, 
I  believe,  about  the  best  ;  and  the  Teme,  which  runs 
through  Herefordshire  and  Shropshire.  In  this  river, 
near  Ludlow,  was  caught  the  largest  grayling  ever  seen 
in  England  ;  it  measured  half  a  yard  in  length,  and 
weighed  four  pounds  six  ounces,  which  is  considered  a 
prodigious  size  and  weight  for  this  species  of  fish.  By- 
the-by,  I  can  tell  you  an  anecdote  relating  to  this  river, 
which  is  highly  complimentary  to  the  pursuit  of  fishing, 
associated  as  it  is  with  a  love  of  rural  scenery  (in  which 
that  country  abounds),  and  the  enjoyment  of  the  beauties 
of  nature.  The  autumnal  months  are  best  suited  to  this 
stream ;  and  it  happened  that  General  Tarleton,  after 
having  revelled  in  the  pleasures  and  luxuries  of  a  London 
season,  retired  to  the  village  of  Leintwardine,  about  nine 
miles  from  Ludlow,  for  the  purpose  of  fishing  for  grayling 
in  the  Teme.  He  had  excellent  sport ;  and  when  he  left 
the  small  inn  at  which  he  had  sojourned  for  a  month,  he 
wrote  the  following  postscript  to  the  landlord's  bill :  '  I 
voluntarily  add  the  sum  of  twenty  pounds  to  the  amount 
of  this  bill  ;  being  not  only  an  acknowledgment  of  its 
very  moderate  charges,  but  in  testimony  of  the  fact  that 
the  month  which  I  have  passed  in  the  village  of  Leint- 
wardine has  been  the  happiest  that  I  have  hitherto 
passed.' " 

There  is  one  practice  of  the  fisherman  in  which  Frank 
Raby  was  desirous  to  excel,  and  this  was  the  dexterous 
throwing  of  the  casting-net,  at  which  Perren,  the  head 


64  THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN 

keeper,  was  a  proficient.  Dressed  in  his  smock-frock, 
then,  would  Frank  be  seen  at  the  shallows,  below  the 
mill,  in  %vhich  gudgeons  and  perch  were  plenty  ;  and 
he  was  now  and  then  rewarded  with  a  pike,  in  the 
deeper  jDarts  of  the  river,  which  were  clear  from  reeds  or 
weeds.  But  the  casting-net  is  not  a  certain  engine  of 
destruction,  as  relates  to  large  fish  ;  its  chief  use  is  for 
catching  what  is  called  "  small  fry,"  either  to  stock  waters 
with,  or  for  baits,  where  live  baits  are  used  ;  and  out  of 
the  multitude  of  fish  which  it  takes,  when  thrown  by  a 
good  hand,  there  is  much  choice  to  be  made.  But  Ihe 
exercise  of  this  net  is  an  act  of  much  grace,  when  cast  as 
it  should  be  cast ;  for,  although  it  resembles  a  bell  in 
shape,  whilst  remaining  in  a  quiescent  state,  when  spread 
to  its  utmost  extent  it  forms  a  complete  circle.  Long, 
then,  before  Frank  arrived  at  maturity,  there  was  not 
a  person  in  the  neighbourhood  who  could  handle  this 
net  better  than  he  could,  his  fnstian-jacketed  preceptor 
excepted.  He  was,  likewise,  a  fair  hand  at  a  trout,  and 
the  knowledge  of  the  flies  best  adapted  to  taking  him,  at 
various  times  and  seasons  ;  at  the  same  time  there  was,  in 
his  estimation,  somewhat  of  a  tameness  throughout  the 
entire  proceedings  of  the  fisherman,  which  gave  him  some 
difficulty  in  determining  whether  he  really  liked  it  as  a 
sport,  or  merely  endured  it  as  the  means  of  beguiling  a 
few  vacant  hours. 

There  was  one  reason  for  a  difference  of  taste  in  the 
pastimes  and  pursuits  which  these  brothers  exhibited, 
and  this  was  in  the  nature  of  the  physical  constitution  of 
each,  which  seldom  fails  to  have  its  effect  on  the  intel- 
lectual one.  Andrew  had  been  a  weakly  child  from  his 
birth,  and  he  was,  consequently,  unequal  to  enter  into 
the  rough  and  arduous  pursuits  which  alone  seemed  ta 
fascinate  our  hero.  But  the  time  was  now  arrived  when 
both  were  to  make  their  start  in  the  world,  and  repair  ta 
a  public  school,  as  their  father  had  done  before  them,  and 
for  which  they  were  well  prepared  by  Mr.  Egerton.  Yet 
here  arose  a  difficulty,  which  it  will  be  in  my  power  to 
account  for,  as  likewise  to  show  how  it  was  obviated. 


THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN  65 


CHAPTER   IV 

The  hero  enters  upon  the  stage  of  life,  and  also  on  another  stage, 
which,  with  various  incidents  narrated  in  this  chapter,  will  be 
found  corroborative  of  the  adage,  that — "  as  the  twig  is  bent, 
the  tree's  inclined." 

I  HAVE  already  presented  to  the  reader  the  character  and 
situation  of  the  brother  of  Mr.  Raby,  uncle  to  the  two 
boys  ;  but  it  may  be  necessary  further  to  observe  that, 
having  made  up  his  mind  to  remain  a  bachelor,  as  more 
congenial  to  his  unconquerable  love  of  ease  and  quiet,  as 
well  as  to  his  generally  epicurean  habits,  he  had  settled 
in  his  own  mind  that  Frank  Raby  should  succeed  to 
his  fortune,  which,  as  I  have  already  stated,  was  con- 
siderable, and  likely  to  increase,  rather  than  diminish 
in  his  hands.  This  being  the  case,  it  is  but  reasonable  to 
suppose  that  he  interested  himself  in  everything  relating 
to  the  formation  of  the  character  of  his  intended  heir,  who, 
although  he  rather  encouraged  than  checked  his  desire  to 
become  a  sportsman,  he  was  very  anxious  should  become 
a  scholar,  to  fit  him  for  that  place  in  society  it  was  his 
intention  to  have  occupied  himself,  but  which  constitu- 
tional indolence  put  a  bar  to.  "With  this  view,  then,  he 
paid  a  visit  to  the  Abbey,  to  talk  over  matters  with  his 
tirother,  respecting  the  future  education  of  his  nephew  ; 
it  having  been  communicated  to  him,  that,  after  the 
midsummer  holidays,  both  Frank  and  his  brother  Andrew 
were  to  be  sent  to  a  public  school.  The  result  of  this 
visit,  as  regarded  the  point  in  question,  will  be  seen  in  the 
following  dialogue  : 

"  AVell,  brother,"  said  Mr.  Andrew  Raby,  "  I  find  the 
boys  make  their  debut  in  the  world  after  midsummer  ; 
have  you  determined  on  Eton '?  " 

"Why,  as  we  were  Etonians  ourselves,"  replied  Mr. 
Raby,  "  and  have  had  no  cause  to  repent  of  having  been 
so,  I  see  no  objection  to  Eton  ;  but  have  you  vourself 
any  ? " 

"None,  whatever,  to  the  school.     Dr.   George  Heath 
who  is  at  the  head  of   it,  and    Dr.  Goodall,  the   second 
master,  are  both  scholars  ;  although  the  first,  in  spite  of 
his  witty  translation  of  the  celebrated  line — 
'  Ille  dolet  vere,  qui  sine  teste  dolet,' 


66  THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN 

is  as  bare  of  humour  as  a  hurdle  is  of  flesh  ;  and  if  Goodall 
had  a  little  more  of  the  stoic  about  him — at  all  events,  a 
little  more  firmness — Eton  would  be  none  the  worse  as 
a  school.  But,  as  you  kindly  ask  me  the  question,  I 
candidly  tell  you,  I  had  rather  that  the  two  boys  should 
not  both  go  to  the  same  school,  and  I  will  give  you  my 
reason.  Frank,  though  not  wanting  in  parts,  is  disposed 
to  do  as  little  as  he  can  possibly  help  with  Mr.  Egerton, 
and  I  am  much  afraid  that  if  he  were  at  Eton,  with  his 
brother,  he  would  coax  him  into  making  his  exercises  for 
him,  which  his  naturally  aftectionate  disposition  w^ould, 
I  am  sure,  induce  him  to  do.  You  are  aware,  brother,  of 
my  intentions  towards  Frank.  I  not  only  mean  to  leave 
him  what  I  am  possessed  of,  but  it  is  my  earnest  wish  that 
he  should  sit  in  Parliament,  and  make  a  figure  in  the 
world,  in  some  other  way  than  as  a  mere  sportsman,  which, 
it  is  evident,  he  is  resolved  to  be." 

The  door  of  the  library  opening  at  this  moment,  the 
■conversation  between  the  brothers  was  momentarily  in- 
terrupted by  the  appearance  of  a  neighbour,  who  was  on 
terms  of  the  greatest  intimacy  with  them  both.  This 
was  Mr.  Freemantle,  a  rich  London  banker,  who  had 
purchased  a  fine  property  in  the  county,  where  he  was 
beloved  and  respected  by  all  for  the  kindness  and 
hospitality  which  he  displayed,  as  well  as  for  the  first-rate 
talents  of  his  cook. 

"  Raby,"  said  the  banker,  "  how  are  you  ?  What ! 
Andrew,  are  you  here  ?  Delighted  to  see  you  both ;  but 
didn't  know  you  were  come  down,  Andrew,  What  news 
from  town,  eh  ?  How  could  you  find  it  in  your  heart  to 
leave  town  at  this  gay  time  1 " 

"  Why,  you  may  suppose  that  it  is  something  extra- 
ordinary. The  fact  is,  we  are  discussing  the  point 
whether  Eton  or  Westminster  school  is  best  suited  for 
Frank.     Xow,  what  say  you  ? " 

"  Why,  as  to  what  boys  may  bring  away  in  their  heads 
from  either,  I  don't  think  there  is  the  toss-up  of  a  guinea 
between  the  two  ;  but,  as  to  what  they  may  bring  away 
in  their  pockets,  there  is  a  wide  difference  between  them. 
A  terribly  aristocratic  place  is  that  Eton  school,  and  I'll 
give  you  a  proof  or  two.  When  my  nephews  were  there, 
I  gave  them  a  five-pound  note  on  the  Friday,  as  I  passed 
through  to  visit  a  friend  at  Taplow  ;  and  on  my  return 
to  town  on  the  Monday,  chanced  to  see  one  of  them  at  Salt 


THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN  67 

Hill.  '  Well,  William,'  said  I,  '  how  much  of  the  five- 
pound  note  is  left  ? '  '  The  five-pound  note  1 '  he  replied  ; 
'  why  not  a  rap  :  it  all  went  the  same  day  ;  part  to  pay 
oft'  a  score  for  filberts  and  sherry  ;  and  the  rest  to  Jem 
Stevens,  for  hack  horses  and  tandems.'  Then,  how  much 
do  you  think  one  of  these  chaps  owed  for  gloves  ?  Why, 
three  pounds  sixteen  shillings  1  But,  now  I  think  of  it, 
and  I  never  mention  Salt  Hill  that  I  don't  think  of  it,  1 
can  tell  you  a  better  story  than  either  of  these,  to  show 
how  little  your  Eton  blades  think  of  money,  I  had  these 
same  hopeful  nephews  of  mine  (by  the  way,  you  know 
they  have  turned  out  very  well,  both  perfect  gentlemen) 
to  dine  with  me,  on  a  whole  holiday,  at  Salt  Hill,  and  was 
soft  enough  to  tell  them  to  bring  half  a  dozen  of  their 
friends  with  them.  Well,  of  course,  they  did  so  ;  and  a 
fine  lot  of  youths  they  were  ;  very  highly  bred,  I  believe, 
all,  and  the  son  of  a  duke  amongst  them.  I  gave  them  a 
good  dinner,  but  was  diverted  by  an  incident  in  the 
middle  of  it.     '  Hand  round   the   champagne,'  said  I  to 

the  waiter  ;  but  Lord  S put  his  hand  on  the  top  of  his 

glass,  and  said,  '  No  champagne  for  me  ;  /  am  a  sherry 
man.''  Pretty  well,  thought  I,  for  a  lad  of  fourteen. 
However,  they  all  delighted  me  by  their  behaviour,  which 
was  correct  in  every  respect ;  but  when  about  to  rise  from 
the  table  to  return  to  Eton,  I  found  that  I  had  not  done 
with  them  yet.  '  You  must  pouch  these  fellows,  uncle,' 
whispered  William.  '  Pouch  them,'  said  I  ;  '  what  do  you 
mean  by  pouching  them  ? '  '  Tipping  them,'  was  his 
reply.  '  They  will  consider  themselves  insulted  if  you  do 
not.'  '  Ah  I '  resumed  I,  '  now  I  comprehend  you  ;  and 
what  must  I  give  them  ? '  '  Oh  ! '  replied  James,  my 
younger  nephew,  'a  guinea  apiece  ivill  do.'  Here,  then, 
was  a  good  day's  work  ;  for  what  with  the  bill  at  the  inn, 
and  the  pouchim/,  I  had  not  much  left  out  of  a  twenty- 
pound  note." 

"  A  true  bill,  no  doubt,  Freemantle,"  said  Mr.  Raby  ; 
"  Eton,  I  find,  is  about  the  same  as  it  was  in  my  time  ; 
and  your  mention  of  Stevens,  whose  miserable  hacks  we 
used  to  ride,  often  at  the  expense  of  a  flogging,  reminds  me 
of  an  anecdote  of  his  hopeful  son,  Jem.  When  Wentworth 
left  Eton,  he  was  so  enamoured  of  this  aspiring  blade,  that 
he  hired  him  as  his  personal  servant  ;  but  he  returned  to 
his  old  quarters,  at  the  expiration  of  three  months  ;  when 
he  thus  accounted  for  himself,  as  we  magistrates  say  on  the 


68  THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN 

bench.  '  Mr.  Yorth,'  said  he,  '  was  veil  enough  ;  indeed 
he  vished  to  hedicate  me,  and  bought  vigs  for  me,  that  I 
might  learn  to  cut  hair,  and  did  many  kind  things  besides  ; 
but  his  walet  and  I  couldn't  agree  at  all.  At  last,  however, 
ve  had  a  reg'lar  blow  up  ;  and  finding  that  Mr.  Vorth 
backed  the  walet  against  me,  I  vopped  him  and  the  walet, 
and  here  I  am,  once  more.'" 

"  Well,"  observed  Mr.  Andrew  Raby,  "  these  are  ex- 
tremely amusing  stories,  and  very  characteristic  of  Eton  ; 
but  let  us  return  to  our  discussion  on  the  question  of 
choice  between  the  two  schools,  and  also  hear  what  our 
friend  Freemantle  has  to  say  on  the  subject." 

"  Why,  if  you  wish  for  my  Oi^inion,"  replied  Mr. 
Freemantle,  "  you  shall  have  it  ;  but,  mind  ye,  it  will  be 
one,  perhaps,  that  you  Eton  and  Oxford  men — and  you,  in 
particular,  Andrew,  who  brought  honours  with  you  from 
Oxford — may  not  exactly  admire.  Scholarshij),  or,  if  you 
will,  learning,  has  been  rung  in  my  ears  as  the  summum 
honum — the  one  thing  necessary  for  man.  In  fact,  to  say 
of  a  person  that  he  is  a  scholar,  seems  to  imply  every  kind 
of  superiority;  and  to  say  that  he  is  no  scholar,  the 
reverse.  Now,  I  confess  that,  after  much  reflection  and 
much  inquiry,  I  am  at  a  loss  to  comprehend  the  mighty 
benefits  of  what  is  called  fine  scholarshi]).  Some 
advantages  it  certainly  has  ;  but,  perhaps,  its  disadvantages 
are  greater  than  we  think,  and  for  these  reasons  : — It  too 
often  prevents  the  excursions  of  a  vigorous  understanding, 
by  keeping  it  in  a  beaten  track,  the  invariable  practice 
of  all  great  schools  ;  it  perpetuates  error,  by  imi:)Osing 
receivecl  oj^inions  upon  tliose  who,  if  they  had  thought 
for  themselves,  would  have  discovered  truth  ;  it  divides 
the  attention,  and  often  fixes  it  on  subjects  which  are  not 
suited  to  that  particular  genius  and  turn  of  mind,  which 
nature  would  have  exerted  upon  some  other,  the  object  of 
her  own  choice,  and  with  much  more  advantage.  Neither 
is  this  all.  By  loading  the  memory,  it  restrains  the 
imagination  ;  and,  by  multiplying  precepts,  it  anticipates 
the  judgment.  Give  me  the  man  whose  knowledge  is 
derived  from  the  cojdIous  sources  of  his  own  reason  ;  whose 
mind  is  filled  with  ideas  that  spring  not  from  books,  but 
from  thought ;  whose  principles  are  co-existent,  because 
deduced  in  a  regular  ratiocination,  and  not  from  scraps  of 
different  systems  gleaned  from  the  works  of  others  and 
huddled   together   without  examination.     Where   is  the 


THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN  69 

scholar  whose  opinion  can  be  said  to  be  entirely  his  own  ? 
Or  where  is  the  genius  that  we  wish  to  have  trammelled 
by  the  impressions  of  others  ?  Are  we  sure  Shakspeare 
would  have  been  what  he  was,  had  he  been  a  deeply-read 
scholar  ?  At  all  events,  our  public  seminaries  of  learning 
do  not  exactly  correspond  with  the  precept  delivered  by 
the  Spartan  king, — '  that  the  child  should  be  instructed 
in  the  arts  which  will  be  useful  to  the  man  ;  ^  and  if  my 
father  had  had  nothing  to  boast  of  but  a  first-class  degree 
at  one  of  your  Universities,  I  should  have  never  had  the 
honour  of  being  a  banker's  son.  Nevertheless,  although 
it  is  possible  that  a  finished  scholar  may  emerge  from  our 
schools  and  colleges,  in  total  ignorance  of  the  business  and 
conversation  of  English  gentlemen  in  the  latter  end  of 
the  eighteenth  century,  I  am  still  ready  to  admit  the 
advantages  to  be  derived  from  the  study  of  the  Latin 
and  Greek  languages.  They  deposit  in  the  hands  of  a 
disciple,  the  keys  of  two  valuable  chests  :  and  it  is  his 
own  fault  if  they  are  afterwards  lost,  or  laid  aside." 

The  morning  of  setting  forward  for  school  having 
arrived,  it  produced  various  sensations  at  Amstead  Abbey. 
As  for  the  two  boys,  the  novelty  of  the  thing,  the  thoughts 
of  the  journey,  and  the  pocket-money,  macle  their  hearts 
light  ;  but  there  were  other  hearts  very  differently 
aftected,  and  one  overpowered  with  its  weight.  This,  as 
may  be  supposed,  was  that  of  the  good  and  affectionate 
Lady  Charlotte,  who,  as  she  could  not  command  her 
tears,  declined  taking  leave  of  her  sons.  Xor  was  Mr, 
Eaby  very  fit  to  appear  in  their  j)resence,  although  he 
strove  to  conceal  what  he  felt.  But  there  were  two 
belonging  to  the  establishment  of  the  Abbey,  whose 
feelings  could  not  be  controlled,  and  these  were  Dick 
Perren  and  the  cook  :  the  one  absolutely  bellowed  from 
the  eff"ect  of  his  grief  at  the  loss  of  ]\Iaster  Francis,  his 
young  master  ;  and  the  other,  who,  notwithstanding  what 
she  occasionally  suffered  from  his  tricks,  loved  him  as 
the  apple  of  her  eye,  betrayed  the  amiable  weakness  of 
woman,  but  by  no  means  to  her  discredit.  Her  method 
of  exhibiting  it,  however,  was  a  singular  one:  she  had 
taken  her  station  at  the  first  gate  in  the  park,  at  which 
she  knew  the  carriage  must  stop  while  the  footman  opened 
it,  and  approaching,  with  her  face  nearly  inclosed  in 
her  apron,  she  chucked  into  the  carriage  two  half -guineas, 
wrapped  in  a  bit    of    white  paper,   with    these   words 


70         THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN 

inscribed — "  God  bless  you  both  J'  And  what  return  did 
ske  get  for  this  silent,  though  not  less  eloquent  offering 
to  her  grief  ?  Why,  Frank  put  his  head  out  of  the  window 
of  the  carriage  as  it  passed  on,  and,  schoolboy-like,  roared 
out,  "  You  stupid  old  fool!  " 

The  party  arrived  at  the  county  town  just  in  the  nick 
of  time.  The  horses  were  being  put  to  the  "  Balloon,"  and 
Wilkins  was  coming  out  of  the  office,  with  his  whip  in 
one  hand,  his  way-bill  in  the  other,  and  a  "Benjamin" 
thrown  over  his  left  arm — all  evident  signs  of  being  quite 
ready  to  start.  Having  walked  once  round  his  horses, 
and  examined  their  coupling  reins  and  curb  chains,  after 
the  manner  of  those  times,  he  addressed  his  young 
passengers,  as  they  alighted  from  their  father's  carriage, 
with — 

"  Glad  to  see  you,  young  gentlemen ;  proud  of  the 
honour  of  having  you  about  the  coach.  Two  insides  and 
one  out  —  box-seat  —  all  right  I  —  A  beautiful  morning. 
Now,  Mr.  James  (to  the  footman),  be  alive  with  the 
luggage,  if  you  please  ;  we  are  all  ready  for  a  start  ;  and 
you  know  we  are  werry  particular  at  this  end,  if  we  can't 
always  be  so  at  t'other.^' 

"  I  say,  Wilkins,"  said  Frank,  "  I  shall  not  ride  inside 
after  we  get  out  of  the  town  ;  I  shall  come  alongside  you 
on  the  box,  and  put  James  inside  with  my  brother." 

"Very  good,  sir,"  replied  Wilkins,  "proud  to  have  you 
on  the  box  :  you'll  be  one  of  us,  some  day  or  another, 
Master  Francis,  I  am  quite  sure  ;  but,  will  your  papa " 

"  Pooh  ! "  exclaimed  Frank,  "  how  will  papa  know 
about  it?" 

"  Not  from  me.  Master  Francis,"  resumed  Wilkins, 
"  I  never  tells  no  tales  ;  but  you  had  better  not  come  out 
till  we  get  through  Clifford,  for  the  parson  there  is  almost 
always  at  the  window  when  the  coach  passes  by,  and  he 
is  a  tattling  old  devil  ;  ten  to  one  he  don't  slip  it  out  next 
time  he  dines  at  the  Abbey.  We  shall  stop  to  water  at 
the  '  Black  Dog,'  Master  Francis,  and  then  you  can  come 
on  to  the  box." 

The  coach  having  arrived  at  the  "Black  Dog,"  and  the 
exchange  between  Francis  and  the  footman  having  been 
completed,  the  following  edifying  conversation  ensued 
between  the  master  and  his  pupil  : — 

"  Do  you  feel  yourself  comfortable.  Master  Francis  1 " 
began  Mr.  Wilkins — "  never  on  a  coach  before,  eh  ?    Here, 


THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN  71 

put  a  bit  of  my  box-coat  over  your  knees,  'twill  keep  off 
the  dust  from  your  clotlies." 

"  I  like  being  on  the  box  very  much,"  replied  Frank, 
"  but  how  it  shakes  !  " 

"Ay,  master,"  said  the  old  coachman,  "it  does  that, 
sure  enough,  'specially  with  one  who  ain't  used  to  it ; 
they  do  say,  they  are  going  to  put  the  boxes  of  all  stage- 
coaches on  springs,  but  Heaven  knows  when  that  will 
be — not  in  my  time,  I  fear.  Our  people  say  it  won't  do, 
that  we  shall  go  to  sleep  upon  them  ;  but  there's  no  danger 
of  a  man  doing  that  now,  even  if  he  should  be  a  bit 
overtaken  with  drink.  But,  Master  Francis,  there  is  a 
great  deal  of  hart  in  sitting  on  a  coach-box,  as  well  as 
in  driving  four  houses.  Your  body  must  go  with  the 
swing  of  the  box,  and  let  your  lines  (loins)  be  as  lissom  as 
you  can.  It  would  kill  a  man,  in  a  week,  to  drive  as  far  as 
I  do,  over  such  a  road  as  this,  if  he  did  not  do  as  I  say." 

"  You  have  got  good  horses  in  the  coach,  Wilkins," 
observed  Frank. 

"  Good  creatures  in  natur',  sir,"  was  that  worthy's  reply, 
"  but  they  haven't  no  chance.  This  here  sixteen  miles  of 
ground  and  only  one  rest-horse,  kills  them.  To  be  sure, 
master  grubs  them  well,  or  they'd  been  dead  years  ago." 

"  Years  ago  I  why,  how  old  are  they  ?  " 

"  Why,  I  was  going  to  say,  you  must  ask  my  father  that 
question.  Howsomever,  I  have  drove  three  of  the  four, 
nine  years,  and  t'other  came  to  this  coach  from  the 
'  Express,'  the  first  year  I  drove  it :  I  think  he  must  be 
quite  twenty." 

"  But  how  fat  he  is  !  " 

"Always  the  case  with  groggy  ones,"  observed  Mr. 
Wilkins  ;  "  as  soon  as  they  have  filled  their  bellies,  they 
are  down  on  their  bed,  because  they  are  in  pain  when 
they  stand  up.  A  foundered  coach-horse,  like  a  gouty 
alderman,  is  always  fat.  But  this  near  wheeler  is  my 
favorite  (giving  him,  at  the  moment,  three  tremendous 
stripes,  with  his  double  thong,  over  his  back,  and  two 
over  his  ears,  followed  by  a  sort  of  rolling  noise  in  his 
throat,  resembling  that  made  by  gargling  for  a  sore  one)  ; 
you'll  see  how  he'll  hug  his  collar  going  up  Brampton- 
hill,  at  the  end  of  this  stage.  He's  half  a  team  himself, 
but  still  he's  an  awkward  chap  to  drive.  There's  some 
difference,  sir,  I  can  assure  you,  between  driving  well- 
bitted  fresh  horses,  like  your  papa's,  and  such  dead-alive 


72  THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN 

bow-kickers  as  these  are,  all  as  sMfty  as  a  lawyer :  in 
fact,  this  off-wheeler  is  a  lawyer  all  over,  for  he'll  not 
work  at  all,  if  he  is  not  devilish  well  paid  for  it  ;  and  I 
keep  a  short  Tommy  in  the  boot,  on  purpose  to  pay  him 
off.  Howsomever,  Master  Francis,  you  shall  try "  what 
you  can  do  with  them  if  you  like,  so  shift  over  to  my 
side,  and  I'll  put  the  reins  right  in  your  hand."  [Here 
it  may  be  observed,  that  the  short  wheel-reins  being 
generally  in  use  at  that  time,  the  placing  the  reins  of 
four  horses  in  the  hand  of  a  tyro  was  not  a  complex  affair. 
The  wheel-reins  merely  rested  across  the  left  hand,  after 
passing  between  the  fore  and  the  middle  finger,  and  those 
of  the  leaders  passing  between  the  thumb  and  fore  finger, 
and  the  fore  and  middle  finger,  were  very  readily  distin- 
guished from  the  others.] 

"  XoM-,  Master  Francis,"  resumed  old  Wilkins,  "  mind 
what  you  are  about.  Keep  your  wheel-horses  to  their 
collars,  and  your  leaders  will  get  out  of  their  way  of 
themselves.  Now,  let  me  see  you  point  your  leaders  to 
the  left  without  moving  your  wheel-horses.  Well  done, 
master  !  that  will  do.  Now  shoot  out  your  wheelers  to 
the  right  without  disturbing  your  leaders.  Ah  I  that's  not 
so  easily  done ;  but  it  will  come  all  in  time.  A  man  wants 
three  hands  to  stir  these  bow-kickers,  'specially  if  he 
ain't  used  to  them.  But  let  me  see  you  hit  this  near 
wheeler.  Well,  not  much  amiss,  Master  Francis,  though 
something  like  thrashing.  I  fear  the  old  horse  thinks 
you  are  playing  with  him,  for  he  minds  you  no  more  than 
a  bolster  does  a  flea-bite.  Now  touch  up  the  grey  mare. 
Ah  I  master,  that  won't  do.  Always  hit  a  leader  beloio 
the  bar,  or  you  will  be  for  ever  having  a  bite,  but  catch 
no  fish.  But  now,  sir,  if  you  please,  I'll  take  'em  in  hand 
again  down  the  hill,  for  it's  a  long  fall,  and,  as  I  told  you 
before,  this  near  wheel-horse  is  rather  given  to  say  his 
prayers,  if  he  steps  on  a  loose  stone." 

At  the  bottom  of  the  hill  (they  were  now  close  upon  a 
village),  Wilkins  pulled  up  his  coach,  and,  in  an  undertone, 
said  to  an  outside  passenger,  "  Xow,  sir,  if  you  please, 
will  you  get  down,  and  walk  through  the  town  ?  "  On 
his  afterwards  resuming  his  seat,  at  the  other  end  of  it, 
the  dialogue  thus  proceeded  : 

."  What  is  the  meaning  of  this,  Wilkins  ?  "  asked  Frank; 
"why  not  let  that  passenger  ride  through  the  town? — 
you  are  not  heavily  loaded."    "  Why,  sir,"  replied  Wilkins, 


THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN  73 

"between  you  and  me,  I  means  to  swallow  that  gentleman 
to-night."  '  -,  0 » 

"  Swallow  him  !— what  the  deuce  do  you  mean  i 

"  Why,  Master  Francis,  I  don't  mind  telling  you,  because 
all  the  servants  at  the  Abbey  says  that  you  are  not  one 
of  the  wide-in-the-mouth  sort,  no  tale-teller.  We  poor 
coachmen,  you  know,  sir,  must  live;  that  is  to  say,  we 
must  make  tongue  and  buckle  meet  at  the  end  of  the  year, 
or  we  gets  into  trouble.  Now,  this  can't  be  done  for  only 
ten  shillings  a  week  on  such  a  dull  road  as  this,  besides 
what  we  kicks  the  passengers  for,  without  a  bit  of  shoulder- 
ing. This  gentleman  is  what  we  call  a  shoulder-stick, 
and,  instead  of  his  fare  going  to  the  proprietors  of  the 
coach,  it  finds  its  way  into  my  short  pocket." 

"  And  do  you  never  get  found  out  ? " 

"Sometimes.  I  lost  one  good  sarvice,  owing  to 
shouldering  a  sodger.  Made  a  vow,  Master  Francis,  never 
to  shoulder  another  sodger,  for  a  proprietor  can  see  him  a 
mile  off.  No  more  cocked  hats  and  feathers,  said  I,  for 
me,  except  they  are  on  the  bill,  and  then  they  ain't  worth 
having." 

Just  at  this  moment  the  "Balloon"  coach,  doivn, 
appeared  in  sight ;  and,  on  both  coaches  being  pulled  up 
alongside  each  other,  the  following  somewhat  symbolical 
sentences  were  interchanged. 

"  How  do,  Joe  1 " 

"How  do,  William?" 

"  Anything  said  ?  " 

"No  ;  but  I  thinks  the  young  one's /i/." 

"  Good  day,  Joe  ;  there's  three  in  and  two  out,  booked 
for  vou  to-morrow." 

But  we  must  here  close  this  portion  of  our  history. 
Let  it  suffice  to  say,  that  Frank  got  another  lesson  from 
Wilkins,  with  some"  hints  which  he  never  forgot :  but  on 
the  approach  of  night,  resumed  his  inside  place,  and,  in 
due  time,  found  himself  safe  in  London,  under  the  roof 
of  his  uncle,  who  was  delighted  at  the  thoughts  of  his 
nephew  making  such  a  promising  start  in  the  world,  with 
the  assurance  that,  in  after-life,  he  would  have  the  means 
of  supporting  both  the  rank  and  character  of  a  gentleman. 

It  was  three  years  since  the  young  Rabys  had  been  in 
London,  a  period  at  that  early  age  well-nigh  long  enough 
to  obliterate  all  recollection  of  what  it  had  appeared  to 
be.     Three  days,  however,  having  been  allowed  them  to 


74  THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN 

see  what  was  best  worth  seeing  in  their  eyes,  they  made 
the  most  of  their  time,  nearly  exhausting  the  energies  of 
their  uncle,  who  made  no  small  sacrifice  in  exerting  them. 
And  there  was  one  place  which  he  had  believed  nothing 
could  have  ever  induced  him  to  visit  again,  being  so  very 
little  to  his  taste,  and  that  was  Tattersall's. 

"  Do  let  us  go  to  Tattersall's,"  said  Frank  to  his  uncle, 
on  the  Monday  ;  "  I  should  so  like  to  see  all  the  fine 
horses  he  sells  ;  besides  which,  I  daresay,  we  shall  meet 
with  some  of  papa's  friends." 

To  Tattersall's  then  they  went,  and  witnessed  a  curious 
scene.  The  impatience  of  a  schoolboy  is  proverbial  ;  and 
that  of  Frank  Raby  for  the  scene  of  action,  having  got 
the  better  of  the  tardy  motions  of  his  uncle,  the  party 
found  themselves  at  "  the  Corner  "  at  least  an  hour  and  a 
half  sooner  than  they  need  have  been,  a  period  of  the  day 
when  the  auctioneer  is  employed  in  offering  for  sale  a 
few  low-priced  hacks,  as  a  sort  of  prelude  to  the  more 
important  scene  which  is  to  follow,  when  the  aristocratic 
j)art  of  the  audience  assemble.  This,  however,  passed 
unnoticed  by  the  uncle,  who  was  no  horse  man,  but  not 
so  by  Frank  Raby.  "  What  I  uncle,"  says  he,  "  is  this 
the  famous  Tattersall's  that  I  have  heard  Sir  John 
Inkleton  and  my  father  talk  so  much  of? — where  Sir 
John  sold  eight  grey  coach  horses,  not  warranted  sound, 
for  £800  ?  Whv,  I  did  not  see  a  worse  set  of  rips  at  our 
Whitsun  fair !  ""^ 

"  Rips  to  be  sure  they  are,"  said  an  old  friend  of  his 
father  and  uncle,  who  stepped  out  of  the  crowd  at  the 
moment,  just  in  time  to  hear  the  remark,  "yet  I  have  bid 
seventeen  pounds  for  one  of  them,  a  very  useful-looking 
pony.  But  let  me  shake  you  all  by  the  hand.  Raby, 
glad  to  see  you.  Lads,  who  would  have  thought  of  seeing 
you  in  London  1 — on  your  road  to  Eton,  I  suppose ;  and 
how  did  you  leave  them  all  at  the  Abbey  ? — not  coming 
to  town  this  season,  I  fear." 

"But,  Mr.  Yerner,"  said  Frank,  interrupting  him, 
"why  don't  you  buy  the  '  useful -looking  pony  ?'  he  must 
be  cheap  at  that  money,  and  I  hear  Tattersall  now  cry- 
ing out — 'Going  at  eighteen  pounds.'"  "Well,  Frank," 
replied  Mr.  Yerner,  "  to  oblige  you,  I'll  go  another  pound  ; 
you  would  like  to  have  to  say,  when  you  write  home, 
that  you  saw  me  buy  a  horse  at  Tattersall's  : "  so  catching 
the  auctioneer's  eye,  and  tipping  him  a  wink,  down  went 


THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN  75 

the  hammer,  with — "  For  you,  Mr.  Verner,  I  believe  ; " 
followed  by  a  nod  of  assent  from  his  customer. 

Now,  were  it  not  for  the  well-known  rapidity  with 
which  the  Messrs.  Tattersall  dispose  of  the  commencement 
of  their  sales,  to  make  way  for  more  business-like  pro- 
ceedings, it  might  be  difficult  to  reconcile,  or  account  for 
the  following  fact,  though  fact  it  surely  be. 

"  Pray,  sir,"  said  a  countrified-looking  man  to  Mr. 
Verner,  in  about  ten  minutes  after  his  purchase  had  been 
made,  and  as  all  the  party  were  on  the  road  to  the  large 
stable,  to  which  they  supposed  the  "  useful- looking  pony  " 
was  returned  till  claimed — "  have  ye  got  a  mon  here  to 
take  away  the  cou;  or  must  she  'bide  where  she  is 
to-night  1 "  "  The  cow  I  "  exclaimed  Mr.  Verner,  "  what 
cow  ? " 

"Why,"  resumed  the  countryman,  "the  nice  black 
Alderney  Mr.  Tattersall  knocked  down  to  ye  for  eighteen 
pounds ;  a  better  creature  for  milk  never  had  a  pail  put 
under  her." 

The  case  was  exactly  this  :  "  the  useful-looking  pony  " 
had  been  disposed  of  during  the  salutation  between  Mr. 
Verner  and  his  friends,  and  the  Alderney  cow  had  been 
the  next  lot  brought  up.  She  was  going  for  seventeen 
pounds,  but  for  the  exchange  of  the  wink  and  the  nod 
just  in  the  nick  of  time,  which  consigned  her  to  the 
possession  of  Mr.  Verner. 

The  evening  preceding  the  day  on  which  the  young 
Rabys  were  to  repair  to  Eton,  his  uncle  was  addressed 
by  Francis  with — "  By  what  coach  do  we  go  to  Eton,  to- 
morrow, uncle  1 " 

"  By  the  Windsor  and  Eton  '  True  Blue,'  of  course  ;  it 
will  put  you  down  at  your  dame's  door.  But  what  makes 
you  ask  the  question  1 " 

"Why,"  resumed  Frank,  "  Sir  John  Inkleton  particularly 
wished  us  to  go  by  the  Birmingham  '  Prince  of  Wales' ' 
coach,  which  would  put  us  down  at  Slough,  where  it 
changes  horses,  and  we  should  only  have  a  mile  to  walk." 

"  But  your  luggage,"  observed  Mr.  Raby,  "  what  is  to 
become  of  that  ? " 

"  Oh ! "  continued  Frank,  "  Sir  John  said  that  old 
Baldwin,  who  keeps  the  'Crown'  at  Slough,  on  our 
mentioning  his  name  to  him,  would  send  our  luggage  to 
Eton  in  a  cart." 

There  must  be  some  motive  for  all  this,  thought  the 


76         THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN 

uncle  ;  something  more  than  meets  the  ear.  "  Come,  tell 
me  at  once,  Francis,  what  is  the  reason  for  your  wishing 
to  go  hy  that  Birmingham  coach  ? " 

"  Why,  to  tell  you  the  truth,  uncle,"  answered  Francis, 
"  Sir  John  told  me  I  should  see  the  famous  Jack  Bailey, 
who  drives  it,  and  who  taught  him  to  drive  four  horses, 
when  he  was  at  Eton." 

"Well,  Frank,"  continued  the  uncle,  "I  see  no  great 
harm  in  this  request  of  yours ;  but,  as  Sir  John  was  an 
Etonian  himself,  did  he  recommend  nothing  to  your 
notice  that  might  be  more  serviceable  to  you  than  a 
Birmingham  coachman  ? " 

"  He  didn't  say  much  about  anything  else,"  replied 
Frank,  "  except  that,  when  I  got  old  enough,  and  wanted 
a  good  horse  or  a  tandem,  on  a  whole  holiday,  he  would 
write  a  line  to  recommend  me  to  Stevens,  who  used  to  let 
him  have  some  good  ones." 

"Black  Monday"  having  at  length  arrived,  Frank  and 
his  brother  were  placed  on  the  front  roof  seat  of  the 
"  Prince  of  Wales "  coach,  the  footman  having  been 
despatched  by  the  Windsor  and  Eton  "  True  Blue  "  with 
the  luggage. 

On  descending  from  the  coach,  at  Slough,  Frank  having 
slipi^ed  half  a  crown  into  Jack  Bailey's  hands,  over  and 
above  what  his  brother  had  given  liim  when  he  paid  the 
fare,  shortly  arrived  at  his  "agreeable  seat  in  Bucks,"  as 
he  used  afterwards  to  call  Eton  school,  where  their  tutor 
having  soon  found  that  his  elder  pupil  had  looked  into 
Ovid  and  Virgil,  and  had  not  looked  into  them  in  vain, 
recommended  his  being  placed  in  the  middle  remove  of 
the  fourth  form,  and  then  proceeded  to  examine  the 
pretensions  of  our  hero.  Finding  him  all  but  innocent  of 
the  Greek  tongue,  his  location  was  soon  determined  upon. 
On  his  informing  his  tutor,  however,  that  he  had  begun 
making  nonsense  verses,  a  page  of  "  Csesar's  Com- 
mentaries" was  put  before  him,  when  he  set  to  work 
much  in  the  same  manner  that  the  young  aspirant  in 
anatomy  does,  when  he  anticipates  phlebotomizing,  by 
opening  the  veins  of  full-grown  cabbages. 

There  is  not,  perhaps,  in  the  whole  course  of  man's  life, 
a  more  remarkable  change  than  the  removal  of  the  child 
from  the  luxury  and  freedom  of  a  wealthy  home,  to  the 
frugal  diet  and  strict  subordination  of  a  public  school : 
from  the  tenderness  of  parents,  and  the  obsequiousness  of 


THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN  77 

servants,  to  the  rude  and  boisterous  familiarity  of  equals, 
the  tyranny  of  seniors,  and,  too  often,  the  rod  of  a  cruel 
and  capricious  pedagogue.  These  hardships,  however, 
are  beneficial  :  if  they  do  not  absolutely  steel  the  mind 
and  body  against  the  assaults  of  fortune,  they  turn  to  a 
good  account.  They  produce  an  equilibrium  in  a  large 
body  of  youths,  of  various  pedigrees,  distinctions,  and 
expectations,  and  prevent  the  assumption  of  those 
imaginary  perfections  which  swell  the  hearts  of  men, 
and  still  more  of  boys,  to  the  great  annoyance  of  their 
associates.  Nevertheless,  the  best  nature  does  not  yield 
to  chastening  and  buffeting  without  some  degree  of  im- 
patience ;  and  it  is  to  be  feared  that  the  sufferings  of  the 
generality  of  boys,  at  very  large  schools,  in  the  lower 
classes  of  it  especially,  are  greater  than  commonly  im- 
agined. At  all  events,  the  first  week  at  Eton  is  a  serious 
trial  to  the  nerves  of  a  shy  or  home-sick  boy  ;  a  thousand 
questions  are  asked,  some  of  them  rather  difficult  to  be 
answered  ;  answered  they  must  be,  or  a  slap  in  the  face  is 
the  consequence.  The  Rabys,  however,  made  their  way 
among  the  crowd,  and  partly  for  these  reasons  : — Their 
name  was  known  as  aristocratic,  and  they  were  called 
"  devilish  good-looking  fellows  ;  " —  Francis,  especially, 
who  had  a  certain  "  knowing  look  "  about  him,  accord- 
ing to  the  language  of  those  days,  which  soon  made  an 
impression  :  as  did  also  the  knowledge  of  his  father  being 
a  master  of  hounds,  and  of  his  having  brought  letters  of 
introduction  to  Stevens  and  Jack  Bailey  from  the  well- 
known  Sir  John  Inkleton,  who  was  considered  an  orna- 
ment to  Eton  school.  Still,  all  this  did  not  serve  him  as 
an  indemnity  from  some  of  the  tricks  commonly  played 
oft'  on  new-comers  in  these  licentious  days. 

It  was  the  saying  of  a  Spartan  king,  that — "  Boys  should 
be  introduced  to  the  arts  which  will  be  usefuf  to  them 
when  they  become  men."  Independently  of  the  business 
of  the  school,  this  maxim  has  always  been  acted  upon 
at  Eton,  in  the  various  popular  pastimes.  Amongst  the 
foremost  of  these  is  the  management  of  the  boat,  which 
soon  became  a  favourite  one  of  our  hero,  whose  sculling 
was  excelled  by  none  at  the  expiration  of  his  third  year. 
He  was  likewise  good  at  cricket,  quoits,  backsword  I3lay- 
ing,  and  other  manly  games;  and  above  all  at  football, 
inasmuch  as  few  could  beat  him  at  kicking  shins. 
Andrew  was  always  a  good  cricketer;  and  bv  his  mild. 


78  THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN 

unassuming  manners,  together  with  the  reputation  he 
acquired  as  a  scholar,  he  soon  became  as  popular  as  his 
brother  in  the  society  in  which  he  moved. 

It  is  not  my  intention  to  follow  the  Rabys  through  all 
the  grades  of  the  school  :  it  is  sufficient  to"^  say  that  they 
both  reached  the  fifth  form  with  credit  to  themselves,  as 
well  as  to  those  who  instructed  them,  and  proceeded,  in 
due  time,  to  Christchurch  College,  Oxford,  although  with 
somewhat  different  views  ;  a  first-class  degree  being  the 
grand  object  with  Andrew  ;  a  forward  place  with  the 
foxhounds,  the  principal  desideratum  of  Francis — the 
honour  of  being  considered  a  good  fellow  in  the  college, 
and  over  the  mahogany,  standing  next  on  his  list  of  what 
he  considered  accomplishments. 


CHAPTER  V 

Christmas  at  the  seat  of  "  a  fine  old  English  gentleman,"  with  its 
appropriate  accompaniments — good  company,  good  cheer,  and 
good  sport. 

THE  month  of  December,  despite  of  frost  and  snow,  is  a 
cheerful  month  in  the  house  of  a  country  gentleman 
whose  means  are  large,  and  consequently  Christmas  and 
its  festivities  were  well  kept  up  at  the  Abbey.  Even 
customs  of  monkish  introduction  were  observed,  and  the 
interior  of  the  mansion  was  decorated  with  holly  branches, 
from  the  fine  mirrors  in  the  saloons,  to  the  stewpans  and 
crockery  in  the  kitchen.  Neither  was  the  mistletoe  for- 
gotten, under  the  magic  shade  of  which  not  a  female  in 
the  establishment,  from  the  governess  to  the  kitchen-maid, 
escaped  the  usual  and  generally  repeated  salutation  of 
Frank  Raby  in  this  season  of  licence  and  conviviality,  his 
brother  Andrew  taking  a  part  in  the  scene,  but  selecting  a 
chosen  few. 

Ale  had  been  brewed  for  the  occasion,  and  there  was 
little  limit  to  the  drawing  of  it,  short  of  actual  abuse  ;  it 
being  the  wish  of  Mr.  Raby  that  the  hearts  of  his  depen- 
dents should  be  gladdened,  in  proportion  to  his  means  of 
gladdening  them,  at  this  festive  season. 

It  is  noio  a  commonplace  observation,  "  How  little 
remains  that  poverty  and  innocence  can  partake  of  ;  "  and 


THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN  79 

we  have  legislators  who,  if  they  could,  would  make  that 
little  less  ;  but,  happily  for  the  people,  such  was  not  the 
case  in  the  times  to  which  I  allude.  The  dance  round  the 
maypole,  on  May-day,  or  on  the  village  green,  at  Whitsun- 
tide,— the  harvest-home  supper,  the  bonfires  of  November, 
and  the  good  cheer  of  Christmas,  were  looked  for  and 
enjoyed  as  surely  as  the  seasons  arrived,  and  the  contribu- 
tions to  these  indulgences,  from  all  the  family  at  the 
Abbey,  were  at  all  times  liberal. 

The  sirloins  of  beef,  the  mince-pies,  and  plum-puddings, 
the  wine  and  ale,  eaten  and  drunk  under  its  roof,  were  in 
perfect  keeping  with  its  baronial  exterior  ;  and  jthe  cloth- 
ing and  fuel,  furnished  to  the  neighbouring  poor  under 
the  management  of  Lady  Charlotte  Raby,  were  still  more 
abundant. 

The  meeting  between  Frank  Raby  and  his  father's 
huntsman  was  truly  characteristic  of  both.  It  is  not 
my  intention,  here,  however,  to  give  a  second  edition  of 
Frank's  appearance  with  his  father's  harriers  in  the  field  ; 
although  he  was  complimented,  by  the  huntsman,  on  the 
improvement  in  his  hand  and  nerve,  and  the  judicious 
remarks  he  made  on  some  of  the  leading  hounds  ;  but  we 
will  proceed  at  once  to  his  debut  with  the  foxhounds. 

The  morning  was  cloudy  and  still,  looking  like  a  hunt- 
ing morning,  and  the  family  had  all  assembled  in  the 
breakfast-room,  when  Sir  John  made  his  apj^earance,  the 
Abbey  being  only  a  mile  or  two  out  of  the  road  that  led 
to  the  appointed  cover.  "  Well,  Inkleton,"  said  Mr.  Raby, 
after  the  usual  salutations  had  passed,  and  pointing  to  his 
son  Francis,  who  was  clad  in  a  green  hunting-coat,  and 
a  pair  of  leather  breeches  made  expressly  for  the  pur- 
pose, "  here  is  the  happiest  fellow,  this  da}^,  in  our  own 
county,  and,  very  probably,  in  the  next  to  it.  Andrew 
says,  he  has  not  closed  his  eyes  since  three  o'clock  this 
morning,  praying  heartily  for  daylight.  I  am  sorry 
I  cannot  accompany  you  to  the  field,  as  I  must  attend 
the  bench  to-day,  but  I  have  ordered  Dick,  the  hunts- 
man, to  do  so,  and  take  the  young  fox-hunter  under  his 
care." 

"  There  is'  no  necessity  for  that,"  replied  Sir  John  ; 
"  one  of  my  hunters  having  been  amiss,  is  much  in  want 
of  work,  and  I  have  ordered  Preston  to  be  at  the  cover, 
and  he  will  do  all  that  is  required,  in  piloting  Frank  ;  and 
you  know  old  Preston  is  to  be  depended  on." 


8o         THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN 

"  JVhen  the  hounds  find?"  exclaimed  Lady  Charlotte, 
with  some  expression  of  doubt  on  her  countenance. 

"  As  steady  as  old  Time,  I  assure  you,  Lady  Charlotte," 
replied  Sir  John  ;  "  besides,  he  is  a  perfect  old  woman 
across  a  country,  and  has  too  great  a  regard  for  his  own 
neck,  to  run  any  risks  of  breaking  Frank's," 

Breakfast  concluded,  Frank  having  fed  no  better  than 
he  slept.  Sir  John's  cover-hack  was  announced  as  being  at 
the  door,  and  he  and  his  happy  companion  set  forward  on 
their  road  to  Bransford-wood  ;  and  thus  they  discoursed 
on  their  way  : — 

"  Well,  Frank,"  said  Sir  John,  "  how  did  you  get  on  at 
Eton?  I  heard  of  your  performances  on  the  'Balloon' 
coach.  Mitchell  also  wrote  me  word  that  Jack  Bailey 
speaks  well  of  you." 

"  Oh,  Eton's  well  enough  out  of  school  hours.  Sir  John," 
replied  Frank;  "lots  of  fun  going  on  then.  I  liked 
Stevens  very  much  indeed ;  he  never  refused  me  a 
tandem,  and  he  ticked  me  for  a  terrier  at  once,  the  best 
you  ever  saw  ;  he  has  drawn  three  badgers,  and  killed 
three  cats,  since  I  have  had  him.  I  only  gave  two 
guineas  for  him,  and  I  have  brought  him  down  to  have  a 
breed  between  Myrtle  and  him.  But  everybody  seems  to 
like  Jack  Bailey  ;  I  have  had  several  lessons  of  him." 

*'  That's  right,"  said  Sir  John ;  "  there's  nothing  like 
being  well  '  nitiated '  in  road-work  ;  and  pray  what  was 
your  favourite  road,  when  you  went  out  in  Stevens's 
tandem  ? " 

"  Oh,"  replied  Frank,  "  sometimes  one,  sometimes 
another ;  but  I'll  tell  you  a  good  story  about  what 
happened  a  fortnight  back.  Two  fifth-form  fellows  went 
in  a  tandem  to  Egham,  and  dined  at  the  '  Eunning  Horse.' 
They  drank  too  much  wine,  and,  by  taking  a  wrong  turn, 
lost  themselves  in  Windsor  Great  Park.  Seeing  a  finger- 
post, however,  the  one  that  was  not  driving  got  out  of  the 
gig  to  read  it,  when,  after  a  pause — for  I  suppose  he  could 
not  see  very  clearly — he  called  out,  '  H  for  Windsor ;  all 
right,  go  along.  Bob  ! '  They  came  too  late  for  absence, 
and  got  a  devil  of  a  flogging  the  next  day ;  but  '  H  for 
Windsor ;  go  along,  Bob ! '  has  been  a  kind  of  watchword  at 
Eton  ever  since." 

"  Capital !  "  exclaimed  Sir  John.  "  I  remember  a  joke, 
when  I  was  there,  which  will  never  be  forgotten.  The 
fellows  had  all  red  coats  made  purposely  for  the  Montem ; 


THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN  8i 

and  when  they  had  to  pass  in  procession  before  old 
George  III.,  a  lad  named  Ripston  appeared  in  one  big 
enough  for  a  full-grown  man,  with  skirts  down  to  his 
heels,  and  great  silver  buttons,  with  a  fox  running 
engraved  upon  them.  Old  Heath  w^as  outrageous,  and 
called  him  up  to  him,  which  being  observed  by  'Old 
Nobbs,'  as  we  called  the  king,  he  asked  the  Doctor  who 
the  boy  was  ?  On  hearing  the  name,  his  Majesty  good- 
humouredly  exclaimed,  '  Oh,  Doctor,  leave  him  alone  ;  / 
hnovj  his  breed.'  The  fact  was,  he  was  the  son  of  a 
sj)orting  baronet,  a  master  of  foxhounds,  and  he  had  had 
the  coat  made  large  enough  to  fit  an  old  huntsman  of  his 
father's,  then  past  work.  But  here  are  the  hounds ;  we 
are  just  in  time  ;  and,  by  the  number  of  horses  at  the 
cover-side,  it  appears  as  if  we  should  have  a  large  field. 
You  and  old  Preston  must  take  care  you  are  not  ridden 
over  at  the  start.  And  there  is  the  master  of  the  pack, 
God  bless  him  !  a  better  sportsman  never  cheered  hound  ; 
and  when  you  come  to  know  what  foxhounds  are,  you 
will  say  he  knows  how  to  breed  them.  In  fact,  taking 
them  for  size  and  shape,  there  is  not  such  a  pack,  this 
day,  in  England  ;  and  if  we  live  long  enough,  we  shall 
hear  of  their  blood  in  every  kennel  in  the  land.  But, 
Frank,  let  me  have  a  word  or  two  with  you  before  we  get 
to  the  cover.  We  are  sure  to  find  a  fox,  and,  there  is 
reason  to  believe,  a  good  one ;  I  shall,  therefore,  tell 
Preston  what  to  do  with  you.  If  he  goes  down  ivind  when 
first  he  breaks,  his  point  will  be  Blackthorns.  In  this 
case,  I  shall  tell  Preston  that,  if  he  takes  you  down  the 
turnpike-road  about  200  yards,  and  then  turns  short  to 
the  left,  he  will  find  a  line  of  gates,  that  will  lead  you 
straight  to  the  wood,  where,  probably,  he  may  hang  a 
little.  Should  he  go  up  tvind,  Roystone  will  be  his  point, 
a  very  stiff  country  to  begin  with,  and  the  Stark  brook,  to 
a  certainty.  Preston  will  here  make  for  either  the  mill, 
to  the  left,  or  the  bridge  at  Elwel,  to  the  right ;  for  you 
must  not  have  the  Stark,  if  you  mean  to  return  alive  to 
the  Abbey  :  it  is  wide  and  deep,  and  the  banks  are  very 
soft.  However,  you  will  be  in  good  company,  for  not 
more  than  one  in  ten  of  the  field  will  have  the  Stark  at 
all." 

The  greeting  between  Sir  John  and  the  master  of  the 
pack  was,  as  usual,  kind  and  cheering.     "  Glad  to  see  you, 
Sir  John,"  said  the  master,  "  you  always  bring  us  luck." 
6 


82  THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN 

"Glad  to  hear  you  sav  so,"'  replied  the  baronet;  "we 
certainly  have  had  a  succession  of  fine  runs  lately,  thanks 
to  your  excellent  hounds,  and  the  way  in  which  they  are 
hunted.  But  I  have  brought  you  something  more  to- 
day ;  I  have  brought  you  a  young  sportsman,  of  no  small 
promise,  who  has  the  good  taste,  even  at  his  early  age,  to 
prefer  foxhounds  to  harriers.  I  hope  we  shall  enter  him 
well  to-day  to  a  good  run,  and  blood  him  at  the  end  of  it." 

"  Glad  to  see  you,  sir,"  said  Mr.  Warde  (for  of  him  and 
his  hounds  have  I  been  speaking,  and  who  was  then  in 
the  zenith  of  his  glory,  and  hunting  one  of  the  many 
countries  which  he  hunted  in  his  time) ;  "although  your 
father  is  no  fox-hunter,  I  have  a  great  regard  for  him  as  a 
conspicuous  sportsman  in  his  line,  and  a  staunch  preserver 
of  foxes  ;  and  it  was  only  last  night  that  we  drank  his 
health  in  that  honourable  capacity.  You  have  a  clever 
little  mare  under  you,  and  I  hope  we  shall  find  out, 
before  night,  whether  your  father's  old  oats  are  as  good  as 
his  new  were.  I  was  entered  to  hounds  before  I  was  your 
age,  and  I  mean  to  stick  to  them  as  long  as  I  can  sit  in  my 
saddle.  Now,  Bob,"  ^  to  the  huntsman,  "  throw  your 
darlings  into  cover ;  and,"  addressing  himself  to  Frank 
Baby,  "mind  this,  young  gentleman — if  you  hear  a 
hound  speak  in  the  cover,  you  may  bet  all  the  money  you 
like  that  it  is  to  a  fox.  Every  toiujne  is  a  fox  with  my 
hounds,  as  I  suppose  every  tongue  is  a  hare  with  Mr. 
Baby's  harriers." 

Scarcely  had  the  pack  spread  themselves,  right  and  left, 
in  the  wood,  than  Samson  was  observed  lashing  his  sides 
with  his  stern,  and  Champion  rushed  through  the  strong 
brushwood  to  join  noses,  as  much  as  to  say,  has  the  villain 
been  this  road  in  the  nujht  ?  "  Have  at  him,  Samson,"  said 
Mr.  "Warde  ;  "  look  about  you.  Bob,  we  shall  find  him  in 
five  minutes."  "  And  Champion,  also,  says  so,"  returned 
the  huntsman,  "  and  he  never  told  a  lie  in  his  life." 

But  the  "villain"  did  not  wait  to  be  found.  The  drag 
grew  warmer  and  warmer  as  the  hounds  drew  onward, 
and  the  deep  tones  of  such  of  them  as  were  equal  to 
owning  a  scent  at  least  eight  hours  old,  being  audible 
down  wind,  even  in  the  deep  recesses  of  the  cover,  away 
went  as  fine  a  dog-fox  as  ever  wore  a  brush,  and  then  the 
scene  became  glorious.  The  crash,  when  the  body  of  the 
pack  got  together  ;  the  shouting  of  the  foot  people  in  the 
1  Robert  Forfeit,  who  then  hunted  Mr.  Warde's  hounds. 


THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN  83 

rides ;  the  blasts  of  the  horns  ;  and  the  hallooing  of  the 
horsemen — some  eager  to  assist  in  getting  the  hounds  to 
their  game,  others  mad  to  get  a  start; — all  this  had  a 
thrilling  effect  on  our  young  sportsman  ;  but  there  was 
no  time  for  looking  about ;  the  hounds  were  on  good 
terms  with  their  fox — their  heads  up,  and  their  sterns 
<iown — and  a  fine  grass  country  before  them. 

The  fence  out  of  the  wood  M^as  an  awkward  one  ;  it  was 
a  low,  but  stiff  gate,  which,  of  itself,  would  have  been 
nothing  ;  but  an  open  drain,  under  repair,  was  in  front  of 
it,  on  the  rising  side,  which  made  the  rider  and  his  horse 
look  about  them.  Sir  John  led  the  way,  followed  by 
three  more,  when  Frank'  cleared  it,  with  a  good  yard  to 
spare,  sticking  to  his  horse  as  tightly  as  if  he  had  been 
strapped  to  his  saddle ;  and  this  was,  without  doubt, 
the  happiest  moment  of  his  existence.  He  had  taken  a 
dangerous  leap,  which  several  of  the  field  declined  ;  he 
saw  a  fine  country  before  him,  with  his  friend  in  the  same 
field  with  the  hounds,  and  only  one  field  in  advance  of 
himself  :— "  I'll  go  till  I  fall,"  said  he  to  himself,  and 
strictly  did  he  keep  his  word.  Fence  after  fence  was 
cleared  by  him,  in  the  company  of  a  chosen  few  ;  but,  as 
yet,  he  had  not  been  observed  by  Sir  John  Inkleton.  An 
accidental  occurrence  discovered  him.  The  fence  exactly 
in  Sir  John's  line  being  impracticable  from  its  height  and 
strength,  he  was  obliged  to  diverge  to  his  right,  to  one 
corner  of  the  field,  where  the  generality  of  fences  are 
practicable ;  when,  sailing  away  on  the  headland,  he 
espied  Frank  Eaby  approaching.  There  was  no  time  for 
words,  the  chase  being  forward  at  the  moment,  and  some 
lost  time  to  be  made  up  ;  so  putting  Petronius  at  some 
rails,  he  was  landed  in  the  next  field,  with  the  hounds  in 
the  one  beyond  it.  When  in  the  act  of  clearing  these 
rails,  however,  he  saw  under  him  a  ditch,  of  enormous 
depth  and  breadth,  and,  fearing  that  Frank's  mare  might 
not  be  equal  to  it,  he  waved  his  hand  to  him,  as  a  signal 
not  to  attempt  it.  The  signal  was  made  in  vain  ;  Frank 
rode  at  it,  and  cleared  it,  with  only  the  momentary  loss 
of  a  stirrup.  Sir  John  began  to  feel  alarm.  "What 
will  Mr.  Raby  —  what  will  Lady  Charlotte  say  to  me," 
muttered  he  to  himself,  "  if  this  boy  meets  with  an 
accident  ?  Still,  what  is  to  be  done  I  I  cannot  lose  my 
place  with  the  hounds  ;  and  I  doubt  whether  anything  I 
may  say  to  him  will  stop  him." 


84  THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN 

Onward  they  went,  over  a  very  deep  vale,  witli  a  breast- 
high  scent,  taking  fences  high  and  stiff,  and  many  of  the 
field  shaken  off.  At  length  they  approached  the  Stark, 
according  to  Sir  John's  prediction  ;  and  it  was  apparent 
to  those  who  knew  the  country  for  some  time  before  they 
came  close  to  it,  by  the  large  willow  trees  on  its  banks, 
whose  flourishing  condition  showed  that  they  were  luxuriat- 
ing in  the  soil  which  l)est  suits  them — a  black  bog. 

"  Now  what  is  to  be  done  here  ? "  said  Sir  John,  once 
more,  to  himself ;  and  he  had  the  lead  of  the  field  at  the  time. 
"  /  will  have  it  just  where  yonder  blackthorn-bush  is  grow- 
ing on  the  bank,  and  that  is  sure  to  be  the  soundest  part, 
in  my  view  ;  but  Frank  will  not  be  up  to  that  trick.  I'll 
wave  my  hand  to  him,  not  to  attempt  it.  "  Don't  come, 
don't  come  !  "  roared  the  baronet ;  "  you'll  be  in  if  you 
do  "  ;  and  Frank  was  not  out  of  hearing  at  the  time  ;  but 
he  might  as  well  have  made  such  a  request  to  the  waves 
at  the  flood  of  a  spring-tide,  and  at  it  he  gallantly  went. 
The  trick  of  the  blackthorn-bush,  however,  was  beyond 
Frank's  experience  in  the  art  of  riding  to  hounds  ;  so 
putting  his  mare  to  the  left  of  it,  where  the  ground  was 
rotten  and  tender,  she  fell  on  her  head,  on  alighting — 
although  she  cleared  the  water — and  gave  him  an  easy  fall. 

"  Bravo,  by  the  heavens  !  "  exclaimed  Sir  John  ;  "  he  is 
up  again,  and  no  harm  done  ;  what  a  rider  will  that  lad 
make ! " 

In  the  next  field  but  three,  the  hounds  came  to  a  check, 
when  an  ^claircissement  took  place. 

"Why,  Frank,"  said  the  baronet,  "you  are  a  very 
pretty  fellow ;  what  have  you  done  with  old  Preston,  on 
Skylark?" 

"  Oh,"  replied  Frank,  "  I  have  not  seen  him  since  the 
hounds  left  the  wood.  I  saw  you  turn  down  the  left-hand 
riding,  and,  as  I  thought  I  heard  the  hounds  turn  that 
way  too,  I  followed  you." 

"But,  Frank,"  inquired  Sir  John  earnestly,  "are  you 
sure  you  are  not  hurt,  for  you  got  a  devil  of  a  roll  at  the 
Stark?" 

"  Not  a  bit,"  answered  Frank  ;  "  it  was  not  the  mare's 
fault,  for  she  cleared  the  water  well." 

"  Yes,  Frank,"  continued  Sir  John,  "  she  fell  from  the 
want  of  a  little  more  support  than  you  could  give  her 
when  she  landed  in  that  soft  ground,  almost  a  bog.  But, 
upon  my  word,  you  must  not  ride  yet  at  such  places  as 


THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN  85 

you  have  in  this  run,  or  you  will  break  your  neck  some 
day.  And  the  new  leathers,  what  a  pickle  they  are  in, 
and  how  they  will  tell  tales  when  you  get  home  !     Lady 

Charlotte  will "     "  Oh  !  "  exclaimed  Frank,  "  they  will 

know  nothing  about  it ;  they  shall  not  see  me  till  I  am 
dressed  for  dinner." 

At  this  moment  the  hounds  hit  off  their  fox,  and  went 
on,  but  not  at  best  pace.  In  fact,  they  were  brought  to 
slow  hunting,  at  which  Mr.  AYarde's  hounds  ever  have 
been  so  conspicuous  ;  and  the  attention  of  Frank  was 
riveted  to  them. 

At  the  end  of  an  hour  and  thirty- five  minutes,  the 
scent  mending  towards  the  finish,  and  "the  hounds  running 
from  scent  to  view,  the  fox  was  in  Bob  Forfeit's  hand,  and 
his  brush  given  to  Frank  Raby  by  Mr.  Warde  himself, 
who  was  delighted  at  the  sight  of  so  promising  a  young 
sportsman  in  his  country ;  indeed,  he  honoured  him  with 
peculiar  notice. 

Sir  John  being  engaged  to  dine  that  day  at  the  Abbey, 
Frank  and  himself  proceeded  homeward  together,  but  not 
a  word  could  be  heard  of  "  old  Preston,"  nor,  indeed,  of  a 
good  many  more  of  the  field,  who  had  been  stopped  by 
the  Stark  brook. 

In  the  course  of  the  evening,  the  health  of  Mr.  Warde 
being  drunk,  himself  and  his  hounds  became  the  topics  of 
conversation ;  and  thus  did  Sir  John  Inkleton  speak  of 
them  : — 

"It  may  be  presumptuous,  perhaps,  in  me,"  said  this 
sporting  and  gentlemanlike  young  baronet,  "to  give  a 
decided  opinion  of  a  pack  of  foxhounds,  it  being  evident 
that  my  experience  has  been  chiefly  confined  to  those  I 
hunted  with  when  at  Oxford,  and  very  good  they  w^ere. 
Still,  there  is  something  in  the  character  of  Warde's 
hounds  which  strikes  the  eye,  and  fixes  the  attention  of 
even  a  common  and  inexperienced  observer,  previously  to 
seeing  them  at  work,  as  being  animals  superior  of  their 
kind,  as  respects  shape  and  power.  Their  style  of  hunting 
is  equal  to  their  high  form ;  and  as  you  masters  of 
harriers,"  addressing  himself  here  to  Mr.  Raby,  "pride 
yourselves  on  overcoming  difficulties  in  chase,  and  hunting 
your  game  to  death,  under  the  most  unfavourable  circum- 
stances, I  wish  you  had  been  with  us  to-day.  There  were 
many  obstacles  in  our  way  : — First,  the  scent  was  ex- 
cellent in  the  burst,  because  the  fox  ran  straight,  and 


86         THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN 

he  had  not  too  much  the  start  of  us.  Secondly,  the 
country  was  excellent,  until  after  we  crossed  the  Stark, 
when  a  change  of  soil  occurred,  which  is  much  against 
hounds  in  chase.  Thirdly,  we  were  twice  brought  to 
check  by  sheep,  which,  having  a  good  fox  on  foot,  threw 
us  again  behind.  Then,  to  crown  all,  we  had  rather  an 
unusual  occurrence  in  that  country — four  fallows  to  cross 
in  succession,  which  required  the  most  patient  hunting  to 
enable  us  to  hold  on. 

"  The  finish,  however,  was  a  glorious  one.  Bothered  by 
the  thirty-five  minutes'  burst,  and  a  good  hour's  close 
hunting  afterwards,  the  fox  tried  the  earths  at  Hamden 
Wood,  and  finding  them  shut,  laid  himself  down  in  the 
cover,  and  broke  before  the  pack  in  view,  having  been 
beautifully  hunted  to  his  point.  In  the  space  of  thirteen 
minutes,  as  fast  as  foot  could  fall,  we  turned  him  up  in 
the  open,  as  your  son  Frank  can  attest." 

Here  Mr.  Raby  looked  at  his  son,  evidently  with  feelings 
of  satisfaction,  but  deemed  it  prudent  not  to  hazard  a 
word  ;  and  Sir  John  proceeded  with  his  remarks. 

"  Then  look  at  Mr.  Warde  himself.  Putting  the  sports- 
man out  of  the  question,  what  a  true  specimen  he  is  of  the 
old  English  gentleman.  How  amusing  is  his  conversation  ; 
how  playful  his  wit  ;  how  manly  his  exterior  ;  and  yet, 
how  polished  are  his  manners  when  in  contact  with 
polished  society  !  How  unfortunate  it  is  that  he  is  so 
heavy  ;  for  horses  can  scarcely  be  found  to  carry  him  well 
up  to  his  hounds,  over  this  very  deep  country." 

"  Was  Henry  Warde  out  to-day  ?  "  inquired  Mr.  Raby. 

"He  was,"  replied  Sir  John;  "he  rode  his  famous 
horse.  Star,  for  which,  although  a  roarer,  he  has  refused 
the  immense  price  of  600  guineas.  It  is  the  only  instance, 
I  believe,  on  record,  of  a  horse,  with  that  defect,  being 
esteemed  so  valuable  as  a  hunter," 

"I  conclude,"  continued  Mr.  Raby,  "that  you  often 
visit  the  headquarters  of  Mr.  Warde's  hunt  ? " 

"  Why,"  answered  Sir  John,  "  they  lie  rather  wide  of 
me  ;  but  1  am  occasionally  induced  to  do  so  by  the 
pleasant  society  I  meet  with.  Then,  again,  wherever 
John  Warde  is,  there  is  sure  to  be  mirth  and  fun,  and 
the  living  is  very  good  at  the  club.  Indeed,  lie  told  me 
this  morning,  in  his  usual  droll  style,  that  'everything 
there  was  very  good  hut  the  reckoning.' '' 

"Ah!  ah  V' observed  Mr.  Raby,  "that  is  John  Warde 


THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN  87 

to  a  T  ;  there  is  a  gaiety  of  heart  and  lightness  of  spirit 
about  him,  which  I  have  never  found  to  the  same  extent 
in  any  other  man  ;  and  it  adds  much  to  his  popularity, 
that  he  has  a  joke  ready  at  hand  for  everyone.  But  it  is 
not  the  reckoning  at  a  hunting-club  that  can  hurt  either 
Warde  or  you.  I  do  not  know  a  better  manager  than  he 
is  ;  and  as  for  yourself,  Inkleton,  if  you  steer  clear  of 
that  accursed  vice,  gambling,  you  have  enough  for  your 
enjoyment  of  all  the  fun  this  world  can  afford  you. 
Neither  your  hunting,  nor  your  coaching,  nor  your  house- 
keeping, good  as  it  is,  can  hurt  you.  You  will,  I  am  sure, 
pardon  this  remark  from  a  man  much  older  than  yourself, 
and  one  who  entertains  for  you  a  sincere  regard,  not  only 
on  your  own  account,  but  as  the  son  of  a  valued  friend." 

"No  fear,"  replied  Sir  John;  "I  never  lost  £100  at 
any  game  in  my  life  ;  and  as  I  know  not  one  of  my  friends 
or  acquaintance  that  is  a  gainer,  but  many  who  are  losers 
by  gambling,  I  mean  to  steer  clear  of  it.  In  fact,  I 
detest  your  professed  gamesters  ;  their  hearts  are  as  hard 
as  stones,  and  as  cold  too  ;  and  they  would  rob  their  own 
brothers  if  they  could." 

On  the  following  morning,  Sir  John  took  his  departure 
from  the  Abbey,  but  not  without  having  obtained  a 
promise  from  Frank,  to  visit  him  before  he  went  to 
Oxford. 


CHAPTER   YI 

College  life,  with  some  sketches  of  men  and  manners  at  Oxford,  in 
the  latter  part  of  the  last  century — Bibiuy  Meeting  in  its 
palmy  days. 

HAYING  assumed  the  manly  gown,  we  now  find  the 
young  Rabys  at  the  University  of  Oxford — cele- 
brated for  making  gentlemen  as  well  as  scholars  ;  one  of 
the  two  great  luminaries  of  the  intellectual  world  ;  and, 
despite  of  the  cavils  against  it,  one  of  the  brightest  jewels 
in  the  British  Crown.  We  find  them  occupying  handsome 
rooms  in  Peckwater,  gentlemen-commoners  on  the  books, 
and  with  an  allowance  of  £600  per  annum  to  each  for 
their  expenses,  it  being  the  wish  of  their  father,  and  also 
of  their  uncle,  who  contributed  towards  it,  that  they 
should    not    only    make     a    respectable    figure    in    the 


88         THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN 

University,  but  tliat  thev  should  have  no  cause  for  having 
demands  upon  them  when  they  left  it.  Their  establish- 
ments were  suitable  to  their  means.  Andrew  contented 
himself  with  two  saddle-horses,  passing  under  the 
denomination  of  hacks,  and  consigned  to  the  care  of 
Seckham,  the  livery-stable  keeper,  reserving  the  entire 
use  of  his  servant  for  his  own  personal  wants  ;  whereas 
Frank  had  his  two  hunters  and  his  hack  in  a  private 
stable  of  his  own,  and  looked  after  by  an  experienced 
man,  who  had  been  brought  up,  under  Spencer,  in  the 
hunting  stables  at  the  Abbey. 

And  now  let  me  introduce  to  the  reader  my  hero's 
college  friend,  Hargrave.  He  was  the  son  of  a  London 
merchant,  educated  at  Rugby,  and  therefore  totally  un- 
known to  Frank  Raby  previously  to  their  meeting  at 
Christchurch.  But  they  were  kindred  spirits,  and, 
according  with  the  vulgar  phrase,  "soon  took  to  each 
other."  And  there  was  some  similiarity  in  their  per- 
sonal appearance,  at  least  in  their  personal  character. 
So  far  from  there  being  anything  of  the  Androgynes 
about  them — the  term  dandij  was  unknown  in  those  days, 
and  it  would  be  well  that  it  had  never  been  called  into 
use  :  they  were  plain  and  rather  peculiar  in  their  dress, 
somewhat  approaching  to  the  contrary  extreme,  with  the 
exception  of  not  losing  sight  of  cleanliness,  and  what  is 
called  neatness  in  their  dress  and  appointments.  In  fact, 
their  appearance  was  gentlemanlike  and  sportsmanlike  at 
the  same  time — not  an  everyday  combination  at  that 
period  ;  and  before  the  end  of  the  second  term  they  were 
pointed  at,  when  together  in  the  streets,  as  the  two 
best  horsemen  in  the  L'niversity.  Hargrave's  stud  con- 
sisted but  of  two  thoroughly  accomplished  hunters  ;  and, 
like  Frank  Raby,  he  had  them,  under  his  own  lock  and 
key,  in  one  of  the  quietest  lanes  in  the  town.  Moreover, 
his  judgment  was  considered  so  good  in  everything  relating 
to  hunting,  as  well  as  in  the  management  of  his  horses, 
that  he  was  generally  appealed  to  as  an  authority  on  all 
disputed  points  amongst  the  Nimrods  of  the  L^niversity — 
at  all  events,  amongst  those  with  whom  he  was  in  any  way 
associated. 

And  how  happened  it  that  Hargrave,  the  son  of  a 
London  merchant,  should  have  become  so  accomplished 
in  field  sports — for  he  was  an  excellent  shot,  as  well  as 
initiated  to  the  noble  science  of  the  chase  ?    The  cjuestion 


THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN  89 

is  easily  replied  to.  His  father,  who  was  himself  a 
siDortsman,  had  a  seat  and  estate  in  Essex,  and  had  entered 
him  when  young  to  hounds,  and  to  those  of  one  of  the 
best  and  most  zealous  sportsmen  of  his  own  or  any  other 
days — the  renowned  Mr.  Charles  Newman.  Again,  the 
country  hunted  by  him  was  one  likely  to  make  a  man 
both  a  sportsman  and  a  horseman,  being  full  of  large 
covers,  very  strongly  fenced,  and  noted  for  the  stoutness 
of  its  foxes.  At  an  early  age,  however,  few  %vent  better 
over  it  than  young  Hargrave  did,  on  a  small  thorough-bred 
horse,  which  went  by  the  name  of  The  Phenomenon ;  and 
he  was  looked  upon  in  the  neighbourhood  as  likely  to 
shine,  at  some  future  period,  in  a  better  country  than 
Essex,  although  famous  for  the  stoutness  of  its  foxes. 

From  what  has  been  said  of  Hargrave,  it  is  scarcely 
necessary  to  state  that  he  was  acquainted  v/ith  all  the  sport- 
ing characters,  noble  and  ignoble,  Oxford  then  could  boast 
of,  and  that,  by  virtue  of  his  seniority  in  the  University, 
he  had  the  honour  of  introducing  them  to  Frank  Raby. 
Amongst  these  was  a  very  celebrated  character  whose 
name  was  Will  Stuart,  and  of  whom  a  short  notice  must 
be  taken.  He  was,  in  the  first  place,  one  of  the  hand- 
somest fellows  in  the  country  ;  of  robust  form  withal ; 
and  declared  by  himself,  and  very  generally  believed,  to 
be  descended  somehow  from  the  royal  house  of  Stuart. 
But  his  occupations  could  scarcely  be  called  royal — at  all 
events,  not  in  the  modern  acceptation  of  that  word.  He 
was  a  deer-stealer,  a  dog- stealer,  a  pond-robber,  and  a 
poacher  in  all  ways,  from  a  pheasant  to  a  jack-snipe  ;  in 
fact,  he  would  accommodate  his  employers  in  any  way, 
provided  they  paid  him  well.  But  Stuart's/orfe  lay  in  the 
difficult  art  of  persuasion,  of  which  the  following  is  one 
rather  remarkable  example  : — 

"Won't  you  buy  this  capital  dog  of  me  ?"  said  he  to  a 
young  man  who  told  him  he  considered  him  too  dear  by 
at  least  two  guineas. 

"  Not  at  that  price,"  replied  the  young  man. 

" Then,"  resumed  Billy,  "you  consider  two  guineas  an 
object  when  the  '  maximum  of  excellence '  is  to  be  obtained, 
as  you  gentlemen  calls  it.  Now,  when  you  comes  to  take 
your  degree,  I'll  tell  you  what  they'll  say  to  you  :  they'll 
tell  you,  that  a  little  more  studying  would  have  put  you  in 
the  first  class  ;  but  for  want  of  that  little^  you'll  be  no- 
where."    And  so  it  turned  out. 


go  THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN 

Amongst  the  ignoble  sciences  patronised  by  Stuart,  and 
in  which  he  much  desired  to  have  initiated  Frank  Kaby, 
was  the  very  ignoble  one  of  dog-fighting.  Ignoble  as  it  is, 
however,  our  hero  wished  to  witness  it,  and  was  conducted 
to  the  pit  by  Stuart,  the  owner  of  one  of  the  dogs,  who 
had  been  the  victor  in  several  battles,  and  had  only  been 
beaten  once.  His  competitor  was  also  a  formidable  one, 
weighing  thirty-six  pounds,  which  was  two  pounds  less 
than  Stuart's,  and,  as  such,  inferior  to  him  in  one  respect. 
His  game,  however,  was  notorious,  and  it  was  only 
shillings  for  choice — in  other  words,  guineas  to  pounds — 
between  the  two. 

I  shall  not  disgust  my  readers  with  a  description  of  the 
contest  between  two  noble  animals,  whose  services  were 
intended  for  far  better  purposes.  Let  it  suffice  to  say 
that,  as  it  was  the  first,  so  it  was  the  last  exhibition  of 
this  sort  that  Frank  Raljy  witnessed,  and  still  he  did 
not  regret  having  witnessed  it.  Exclusive  of  the  courage 
displayed  by  the  dogs,  during  a  contest  of  upwards  of 
half  an  hour,  the  means  taken  by  their  handlers  to  in- 
crease that  courage  excited  his  astonishment,  if  it  did  not 
produce  pleasure.  There  is  no  necessity  for  recapitulating 
them  ;  but  it  appeared  that  one  index  to  the  probaljle 
result  of  the  fight  was  the  position  of  the  animal's  tail. 
If  erect,  he  was  still  undaunted  :  if  inclined  to  droop,  his 
pluck  was  doubted,  and  the  betting  immediately  turned 
against  him.  The  position  of  the  tail,  however,  is  the 
general  barometer  of  the  dog's  mettle.  Witness  Shak- 
speare  at  a  bear- fight  : — 

"Oft  have  I  seen  a  hot,  o'erweeBing  cur, 
Run  back  and  bite,  because  he  was  withheld  ; 
Who,  having  suffered  with  the  bear's  fell  jjaw, 
Ilath  clapt  his  tail  between  his  legs,  and  cried.'' 

There  was  another  species  of  sporting,  and  one  very 
much  in  fashion  in  those  days,  in  which  Frank  Raby  was 
initiated  by  Will  Stuart — the  aristocratic  one  of  cock- 
fighting  ;  and  aristocratic  it  may  certainly  be  called, 
confirming  the  truth  of  the  assertion  that,  although  the 
vulgar  borrow  vices  from  the  great,  the  great  occasionally 
condescend  to  borrow  them,  in  their  turn,  from  the 
vulgar.  It  must,  however,  be  admitted  that,  in  point  of 
respectability — if  such  a  term  can  be  allowed  in  this  case — 
there  is  scarcely  a  comijarison  between  the  operations  of 


THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN  gi 

the  cock  and  the  dog-pit,  the  former  having  been  long  the 
resort  of  many  of  our  acconiplislied  noblemen  and  country 
gentlemen,  still  standing  its  ground  to  a  certain  extent, 
whilst  the  latter  is  nearly  aljandoned.  Whether  it  may 
last  another  century  is  a  matter  of  some  speculation,  from 
the  alternations  which  occur  in  the  taste  for  all  national 
sport ;  but  that  it  has  stocjd  the  test  of  ages  is  a  fact  too 
well  established  to  admit  of  a  doubt,  as  well  as  that  a  moral 
has  been  drawn  from  it.  Themistocles's  famous  address- 
to  the  Athenian  soldiers  affords  one,  and  a  signal  one,  too.. 
On  their  march  to  battle  he  halted  them,  and  directed 
their  attention  to  two  cocks  that  were  fighting,  descanting 
on  their  determination  to  conquer  or  die ;  and  ordered 
cock-fighting  to  be  afterwards  annually  exhibited  in  the 
camp.  The  Romans  likewise  admired  the  martial  spirit 
of  the  gamecock  ;  and  it  is  even  asserted  that  Caesar's 
troops  introduced  cock- lighting  in  England,  during  their 
temporary  invasion  of  the  country,  and  that  they  even 
made  quails  to  fight.  Still,  Columella  calls  it  a  Grecian. 
diversion,  and  speaks  of  it  in  terms  of  ignominy,  as  an 
expensive  amusement  (which  it  is),  unljecoming  the  frugal 
housekeeper,  and  often  attended  with  the  ruin  of  the 
parties  who  follow  it.  The  most  offensive  part  of  tlii-^ 
practice,  however,  is  now  fortunately  done  away  with — I 
mean  the  "  Welsh  main,"  as  it  is  called,  which  consisted  in 
causing  thirty-one  of  thirty-two  cocks  to  be  slaughtered, 
])efore  the  surviving  one  was  to  be  proclaimed  the  victor  I 

Although  Frank  Raby  had  seen  some  few  exhibitions  of 
fighting-cocks  in  his  father's  neighbourhood,  and  at  Eton, 
he  had  never  seen  what  is  called  "a  main"  fought;  but 
liaving  a  wish  to  see  one,  he  accompanied  his  friend 
Hargrave  to  the  Oxford  cockpit,  and  was  introduced  by 
him  to  the  celebrated  Bob  Dolly,  who  was  at  that  time 
the  proprietor  of  it.  The  particulars  of  this  main  need 
not  be  given  ;  but,  at  the  expiration  of  it,  the  following  con- 
versation took  place  between  the  two  young  sportsmen  : — 

"Well,  Frank,"  said  Hargrave  (for  Frank  was  he  always 
called  by  his  intimates),  "  what  do  you  think  of  cock- 
fighting,  now  that  vou  have  seen  it  nearly  in  its  best 
form  ? " 

"  Why,"  replied  Frank,  "  I  have  scarcely  made  up  my 
mind  sufficiently  on  the  subject,  to  give  you  a  decided 
answer.  I  am,  however,  prepared  to  say  that  although  I 
cannot  go  the  length  that  you  do,  when  you  say,  you  look. 


92  THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN 

upon  two  cocks,  in  tlie  arena  of  a  pit,  in  the  light  of  two 
champions  of  olden  times,  who  rush  to  the  charge  for  glory- 
only,  and  imagine  that,  in  the  shrill  and  animating  note  of 
their  crowing,  you  hear  the  herald's  clarion,  still,  I  consider 
the  first  'setting  to,'  as  it  is  called,  of  two  highly-bred 
gamecocks,  one  of  the  most  interesting  sights  that  animated 
nature  can  exhibit.  Their  determined  courage  throughout 
the  battle,  and  their  invincible  spirit,  to  conquer  or  die, 
are  something  more  than  natural,  and  seem  to  justify  the 
absurd  notions  entertained  by  the  ancients  of  these  birds, 
not  only  in  calling  them  sacred  to  the  sun,  but  making 
them  to  participate  of  a  certain  solar  divinity,  and  to  be 
thus  feared — at  all  events,  reverenced — even  by  the  lion. 
But  look  at  the  cock  in  his  natural  state — a  state  of 
freedom.  What  a  beautiful  animal  he  is  !  What  a 
pattern  of  a  warrior,  a  husband,  and  a  fine  gentleman  ! 
See  him  clap  his  wings  and  crow  ;  how  proud  of  his 
courage  does  he  appear  ;  how  gallant  he  is  to  his  females  ; 
how  jealous  of  a  rival  ;  and  how  he  is  formed  for  con- 
tending with  him,  for  he  is  all  muscle  and  bone  !  Then 
observe  what  language  he  has  at  his  command  !  If  he 
finds  food,  he  calls  a  favourite  female  to  partake  of  it ;  if 
a  danger  appears,  he  bids  his  family  beware  ;  and  he  has 
his  amorous  phrases  as  well  as  his  terms  of  defiance  and  of 
battle.  But  his  crowing — why,  he  may  be  said  to  invoke 
the  sun  ;  indeed,  Shakspeare  calls  him  '  the  trumpet  to 
the  morn'  ;  and  many  other  poets  have  borrowed  their 
images  from  him — 

'  The  crested  cock  whose  clarion  sounds  the  silent  hours  ; ' 

amongst  the  most  beautiful  of  them,  as  '  the  'larum  of  the 
country  labourer.' " 

"Well  said,  Frank  Raby,"  exclaimed  Hargrave  ;  "  upon 
my  soul  you  would  make  a  good  Methodist  preacher,  but  I 
much  doubt  your  ever  becoming  a  cocker." 

"  I  don't  know  what  to  say  on  that  point  yet,"  replied 
Frank.  "  There  is  much  to  admire  in  a  battle,  and  still 
more  in  the  system  throughout ;  but  I  feel  that  there  is 
something  both  disgusting  and  cruel  in  a  long-protracted 
battle,  however  indicative  it  may  be  of  the  invincible 
courage  of  the  animal,  and  however  productive  of  a  moral, 
as  Mr.  Wyndham  and  others  have  considered  it  to  be. 
But  as  you  are  such  an  advocate  for  cock-fighting,  let  me 
hear  what  you  have  to  say  in  defence  of  it." 


THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN  93 

"  Why,  to  tell  you  the  truth,"  returned  Hargrave,  "  I 
think  tliat,  next  to  finding  a  fox,  the  excitement  produced 
at  the  onset  of  a  battle  between  cocks,  exceeds  any  that  I 
have  hitherto  experienced.  I,  therefore,  must  say  I  am 
very  partial  to  cock-fighting  as  a  sport  or  pastime.  But  I 
cannot  help  looking  at  it  in  another  light.  It  appears  to 
me  that,  from  the  very  extraordinary  circumstances  and 
facts  developed  in  pursuance  of  the  whole  system — from 
the  breeding  the  birds,  to  bringing  them  to  the  pit  to 
fight,  as  well  as  their  conduct  in  the  fight — it  must  have 
been  intended  to  excite  the  curiosity,  and  promote  the 
researches  of  man  in  the  w^onderful  operations  of  nature  ; 
if  not,  in  this  individual  instance,  to  serve  as  an  example 
to  be  imitated  in  certain  situations  in  life.  For  instance, 
consider  the  form  of  what  we  so  properly  call  the  game- 
cock :  he  is  not  only,  as  you  have  described  him,  composed 
of  little  else  but  muscle  and  bone  ;  but,  looking  at  his 
ruddy  complexion,  his  full  breast,  his  lofty  neck,  the 
strength  of  the  beam  of  his  leg,  and  length  of  his  thigh, 
his  large  quick  eye,  and  strong  beak — crooked  and  big  at 
its  setting  on — and  his  murderous  spurs,  it  is  evident  that 
he  was  intended  to  fight.  But  why  so  ? — why  should  he  be 
armed  with  such  murderous  weapons,  and  endowed  with 
such  formidable  strength  and  courage,  merely  to  protect 
himself,  or  his  own  race,  from  others  of  his  own  race  ?  There 
can  be  no  reason  at  all  for  this  in  an  animal  which  it  is  evi- 
dent was  designed  to  be  domesticated.  The  fact  is,  he  is  born 
a  fighter,  and  absolutely  begins  to  spur  at  an  adversary  soon 
after  he  leaves  the  egg  ;  at  all  events,  before  his  spurs  are 
grown.  Putting  him  to  fight,  then,  is  not  having  recourse 
to  a  force  against  nature,  but  an  evident  indulgence  of  his 
natural  propensity,  for  there  can  be  no  ofl'ence  given  to 
him  by  the  bird  pitted  against  him,  which  he  has  never 
seen  till  taken  out  of  his  bag.  This  is  also  proved  by  the 
well-known  fact,  that  cocks  at  their  walks,  and  at  full 
liberty,  will  seek  each  other  for  battle  as  far  as  they  can 
hear  each  other's  crowing.  In  fact,  there  appears  to  be 
in  them  an  insatiable  thirst  to  destroy  each  other,  which 
does  not  appear  in  other  parts  of  the  creation.  We  hear 
of  carnivorous  animals  depopulating  the  places  they 
frequent  of  every  other  inhabitant,  but  there  is  no  instance, 
except  in  the  cock,  of  a  desire  to  exterminate  their  own 
species." 

"Then  you  really  believe    it  was  intended  that  the 


94         THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN 

courage  of  these  birds  should  he  displayed  to  man  as  an 
example  1 " 
"  I  do." 

"  And  in  the  method  pursued  in  Bob  Dolly's  cockpit  ? " 
"Ah,  there  you  press  me  too  hard  now.  I  can  only  say 
that,  if  they  do  fight  at  all,  the  arming  them  with  artificial 
weapons  is  the  very  reverse  of  cruelty,  for  the  contest  is 
sooner  ended,  and  their  suff'erings  trilling  in  comparison 
to  what  they  would  have  been,  had  they  fought  with  their 
own  natural  weapons,  by  lacerating  and  bruising  each 
other  in  every  tender  part.  And  hence  may  be  formed 
a  comjDarison  between  the  duellist  and  the  pugilist.  The 
duellist  meets  his  adversary  like  the  gamecock,  voluntarily, 
and  with  artificial  weapons  also  ;  whereas  the  pugilist  is 
urged  to  fight  merely  by  a  prospect  of  gain,  and  to  fight 
with  natural  weapons,  receiving  blows  and  bruises, 
frequently  to  the  very  point  of  death,  to  amuse  a 
crowd  of  spectators.  I  am  inclined,  then,  to  think  that, 
after  all,  cock-fighting  is  one  of  the  least  cruel  of  all 
our  sports  in  which  the  lives  of  animals  are  put  to  the 
risk.  But  it  is  not  so  much  the  mere  act  of  fighting,  and 
the  display  of  courage  in  the  gamecock,  that  excite  my 
admiration  :  it  is,  as  I  said  before,  the  entire  system 
throughout,  and  the  wonderful  phenomena  that  occur 
in  breeding  and  training  these  birds.  We  will  commence 
with  the  breeding,  and  the  importance  of  similarity  of 
feather.  Where  is  the  philosopher  who  can  discover  this 
necessity  ? — but  so  it  is.  Several  attempts  were  made, 
some  years  back,  to  cross  the  Cheshire  piles  with  f)iles 
from  other  countries,  and  those  of  great  note  ;  but,  from 
a  trifling  dissimilarity  of  feather,  the  breed  was  very 
inferior  to  the  original  one.  But  even  in  the  Cheshire 
piles,  the  necessity  arises  of  not  mixing  the  dark  and 
light- coloured  ones  together.  Then,  again,  the  fidelity 
with  which  uniformity  of  colour  is  preserved,  is  no  less 
astounding.  A  celebrated  breeder  of  cocks  thus  writes 
on  this  subject: — 'Fifteen  years  or  more  I  had  enjoyed 
an  invariable  production  of  the  most  complete  black-reds 
bred  by  any  amateur,  without  a  single  instance  of  devia- 
tion during  that  period  ;  but,  on  the  sixteenth  year,  I 
had  several  light  piles  in  one  hatch.  No  change  of  eggs 
could  possibly  have  taken  place,  nor  was  there  a  shadow 
of  doubt  of  interference  with  any  other  cock.  A  well- 
regulated  account  of  my  cocks,  however,  enabled  me  to 


THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN  95 

ascertain  that  there  had  been  a  pile  in  the  cross  five  years 
previous  to  my  having  them  from  Shropshire  ;  so  that 
they  held  highly  reyular  for  twenty-one  years,  not  only  in 
plumage,  but  in  every  desired  requisite.' 

"  It  appears,"  continued  Hargrave,  "that,  had  this  breeder 
gone  on  in  a  deviation  from  the  original  colour,  he  would 
have  had  spangles,  as  party-coloured  fowls  are  called  ;  but, 
by  persevering  afterwards  in  selecting  the  darkest-coloured 
fowls,  those  in  fact  most  resembling  his  original  attachment, 
or  sort,  he  preserved  not  only  their  feather,  but  their  con- 
stitution, which  is  a  great  consideration  with  cockers.  Now 
here  we  have  an  analogy  between  the  florist  and  the  cocker. 
A  run  flower  is  one  which  has  the  inherent  vice  of  chang- 
ing colour,  with  little  chance  of  regaining  its  primitive 
and  valuable  brilliancy  ;  consequently  it  is  discarded  by 
the  florist,  as  spangled  pullets  would  be  by  the  cocker. 

"  There  are,  also,  independent  of  feather,  some  strange 
circumstances,  arising  from  the  selection  of  the  parentage 
of  game  fowls,  and  these  of  the  very  same  breed,  one,  in 
fact,  which  has  been  proved  to  be  good  in  blood,  feather, 
and  heel.  For  example  :  cocks  bred  from  a  father  and 
daughter  have  run  away,  whereas  those  from  a  mother 
and  son  have  stood  to  be  killed  by  inches. 

"  Perhaps  the  best  proof  of  the  difficulties  of  training 
cocks  to  fight,  is  to  be  found  in  the  very  few  persons 
who  have  excelled  in  this  branch  of  their  art.  Who 
would  believe  it  possible  that,  although  a  feeder  should 
be  able  to  get  a  pen  of  cocks  fit  to  fight  for  two  successive 
days,  he  should  not  be  able  to  have  them  fit  to  fight 
on  the  third,  and  yet  his  competitor  on  the  sod  shall 
be  able  to  do  so  ?  This,  however,  is  a  very  common  case. 
In  fact,  the  whole  system  of  feeding  cocks  to  fight, 
reducing  or  increasing  their  weight,  but  still  retaining  the 
highest  pitch  of  condition  and  vigour,  is  one  of  consummate 
art,  and  one  with  which  that  of  training  the  race-horse 
can  bear  no  comparison  as  to  the  difficulty  of  it.  Then, 
again,  what  a  true  picture  of  life  is  a  cockpit !  Depend 
upon  it,  Frank  Raby,  you  will  never  have  seen  human 
nature  fully  and  faithfully  displayed  in  the  rough,  until 
you  shall  have  seen  it  in  a  cockpit,  at  such  places  as 
Chester,  Manchester — in  short,  anywhere  bordering  on 
the  north.  Amongst  noblemen  and  gentlemen  of  the 
highest  character  and  respectability,  and  who  have  made 
cocking  their  pursuit  through  life,*^  you  will  see   men  of 


96  THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN 

the  coarsest  exterior,  and  in  the  meanest  garb,  outwitting 
them  by  odds  in  their  judgment  in  selecting  the  winners 
before  the  battles  commence,  and  exhibiting  indescribable 
acuteness  in  discovering  injuries  afterwards,  which,  of 
course,  they  turn  to  account  before  many  of  their  superiors 
are  aware  of  them.  This  extreme  quickness  of  sight,  by 
which  what  is  called  a  '  cut  throat '  is  discovered  previoiisly 
to  its  effects  becoming  visible,  is  scarcely  to  be  expected  from 
a  heavy  and  dull-looking  mechanic — perhaps  a  blacksmith, 
or  a  collier,  who  may  have  walked  fifty  miles  to  the  pit — 
but  such  is  often  the  case,  and,  of  course,  he  reaps  his 
reward  by  immediately  backing  the  other  cock." 

"  What  do  you  mean  by  a  '  cut  throat  1 '  I  never  saw 
a  cock's  throat  cut  in  fighting." 

"  Nor  I  neither.  It  is  a  body  blow,  but,  having  wounded 
a  vital  part,  is  so  called  from  the  fact  of  the  blood  soon 
finding  its  way  into  the  throat,  and  thence  ejected  by  the 
mouth,  consequently  impeding  respiration.  Cocks  in  very 
high  condition  will  occasionally  '  throw  it  off,'  as  the  term 
is,  and  go  on  ;  but  it  generally  betokens  a  speedy  termina- 
tion of  the  battle.  The  setting  or  handling  of  the  cocks 
is  also  a  most  difficult  art ;  in  fact,  I  have  no  hesitation 
in  saying,  that  not  only  does  a  cockpit  include  more 
natural  talent,  in  the  rough,  than  any  other  place  in  which 
men  of  all  descriptions  are  given  to  congregate,  but  that, 
unless  a  man  be  a  man  of  talent,  he  has  no  business  to 
enter  one." 

Frank  listened  attentively  to  this  somewhat  philosophical 
description  of  cocking  and  the  cockpit,  and  whether  or  not 
he  became  a  cocker  will  hereafter  be  shown.  He,  how- 
ever, reminded  Hargrave  that  the  late  Mr.  Wyndham — 
then  in  the  zenith  of  his  reputation,  as  one  of  our  dis- 
tinguished senators,  and  distinguished  also  for  his  humanity 
— had  given  it  as  his  opinion  that  the  conflict  between 
inferior  animals  incited  the  courage  of  a  nation  ;  and, 
in  support  of  his  hypothesis,  availed  himself  of  the 
character  of  the  English  people,  who,  he  said,  have  ever 
been  as  remarkable  for  courage,  or  what  is  vulgarly  called 
"  pluck,"  as  for  their  predilection  for  such  conflicts,  cock- 
fighting  especially. 

The  first  public  exhibition  of  our  hero,  during  his 
residence  at  Christchurch,  was  on  Burford  race-course, 
in  Oxfordshire,  on  which  was  held  what  was  called  the 
Bibury  meeting,  continued   (though  in  very  diminished 


THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN  97 

form)  to  the  present  time.  But  these  were  Bibury's  very 
best  days.  In  addition  to  the  encouragement  given  to  it 
by  the  patronage  and  presence  of  George  lY.,  then  Prince 
of  Wales,  who  was  received  by  the  Earl  of  Sherborne, 
for  the  week,  at  his  seat  in  the  neighbourhood,  and  who 
every  day  made  his  appearance  on  the  course  as  a  private 
gentleman,  on  his  favourite  cropped  roan  hack,  of  which 
he  was  as  fond  as  the  impetuous  Hotspur  of  his  "  crop-ear 
roan,"  which,  in  an  equestrian  transport,  he  called  his 
"  throne,"  with  merely  a  groom  in  attendance,  and  in 
familiar  conversation  with  all  who  had  the  privilege  of 
addressing  him,  there  was  a  galaxy  of  gentlemen  jockeys, 
who  alone  rode  at  this  meeting,  which  has  never  since 
been  equalled.  Amongst  them  were  the  present  Duke 
of  Dorset,  who  always  rode  for  the  Prince  ;  His  Grace's 
brother,  the  late  Hon.  George  Germain ;  the  late  Mr. 
Delme  Eadcliffe— who  had  the  management  of  His  Royal 
Highness's  racing  stud,  until  his  decease  as  George  IV. ; — 
the  late  Lords  Charles  Somerset  and  Milsington,  and 
Lord  Delamere,  then  Mr.  Cholmondeley ;  Sir  Tatton 
Sykes,  then  Mr.  Sykes  ;  Messrs.  Hawkes,  Bullock,  Worral, 
George  Pigot,  Lindow,  Lowth,  Musters,  Probyn,  &c.,  all 
first-raters,  and  some  of  them  in  as  constant  practice  as 
any  of  the  regular  jockeys.  And  a  curious  fact  may  here 
be  mentioned,  and  of  which  Frank  Raby  was  a  witness. 
The  Prince  of  Wales  had  a  horse  called  Ploughater,  by 
Trumpeter,  out  of  an  Evergreen  mare,  and  bred  by  Lord 
Clermont,  which  was  extremely  difficult  to  ride,  from 
his  hard  pulling,  and  awkward  position  of  his  head  in 
his  gallop.  The  Duke  of  Dorset,  however,  rode  him  in 
several  successful  races,  but  at  length  broke  a  blood- 
vessel by  the  exertion.  Having  lost  a  great  quantity 
of  blood,  His  Grace  did  not  appear  on  the  course  the 
next  day,  but  on  the  following  one,  to  the  surprise  of 
all  persons  who  saw  him,  he  not  only  appeared,  but 
insisted  upon  mounting  Ploughater  again,  who  had  to 
walk  over  the  course  for  a  Stakes. 

There  was  something  especially  jockey-like  in  the 
appearance  of  the  Duke  of  Dorset,  his  brother  Germain, 
and  Delme  Radclifte,  not  only  when  mounted  on  race- 
horses, but  when  seen  riding  on  the  course,  on  their  hacks, 
often  with  their  saddles  buckled  to  their  sides,  after  the 
manner  of  the  professional  men.  Indeed,  it  is  much  to 
be  doubted  whether  there  was  so  much  as  two  pounds  in 

7 


98         THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN 

weight  difference  between  the  performance  of  that  trio, 
as  well  as  of  Mr.  Hawkes,  and  the  best  of  the  jockeys  of 
those  days.  Hawkes's  forte  was  as  much  making  play  in 
running,  as  in  what  is  called  a  waiting  race,  by  his  excellent 
judgment  of  pace.  In  fact,  he  was  a  perfect  horseman, 
either  over  a  course  or  a  country.  George  Pigot  was 
likewise  very  good  in  his  saddle,  but  had  not  the  head  of 
Hawkes  in  a  near  race.  Sir  Tatton  Skyes  was  a  second 
Hawkes,  cool,  and  with  a  beautiful  hand.  Of  his  cool- 
ness, perhaps,  nothing  can  beat  what  I  am  now  about  to 
relate.  When  riding  a  match,  at  York,  his  horse  bolted, 
and,  falling  over  some  rails,  he,  of  course,  fell  to  the 
ground.  His  antagonist,  having  observed  the  accident, 
was  cantering  gently  along  towards  the  winning-post, 
supposing  the  race  to  be  his  own  ;  when,  within  a  few 
3'ards  of  home,  he  was  passed  by  a  horseman,  in  a  coat 
and  hat,  who  wished  him  a  pleasant  ride.  This  was  Sir 
Tatton,  who  had  borrowed  the  coat  and  hat  from  a 
bystander,  when  he  fell,  and  thus  deceived  his  competitor, 
who  mistook  him  for  one  of  the  crowd.  So  fond  was  Sir 
Tatton  of  riding  races,  that  he  has  been  known  to  ride  a 
hundred  miles  for  that  sole  purpose,  and  returmto  York- 
shire on  his  hack  immediately  on  the  event  being  decided. 
Of  Mr.  Bullock — commonly  called  Nando  Bullock,  his 
name  having  been  Orlando — some  amusing  anecdotes  are 
recorded,  in  reference  to  his  passion  for  race-riding.  The 
following  is  a  description  of  a  race  he  once  rode  and  won. 

"I  turned  the  last  post,"  said  he,  '•'■  snug  as  murder; 
now,  said  I  to  myself,  the  pantomime  is  going  to  begin, 
and  I  think  I  shall  beat  Mr.  Merryman."  (There  was  a 
horse  called  Merryman  in  the  race,  and  heavily  backed  to 
win.)  Again,  when  he  broke  his  leg  and  thigh  in  a  race, 
by  his  horse  running  against  a  post,  he  absolutely  spurred 
the  persons  who  were  carrying  him  upstairs  to  bed,  with 
his  other  leg,  so  little  daunted  was  he  by  the  mishap. 
He  met  his  death  by  an  accident,  at  last,  and  was  much 
regretted  by  his  friends,  for  his  great  good  humour. 

Lords  Charles  Somerset,  Milsington,  and  Delamere, 
rode  much  at  Bibury,  and  well — Lord  Charles  Somerset 
especially — although  they  were  all  above  jockey  height, 
as  also  was  Mr.  Musters  ;  but  Mr.  AVorral,  one  of  the  best 
of  them,  was  cast  in  the  jockey  mould. 

But  to  return  to  our  young  sportsman  at  Oxford. 
Having  engaged  a  tandem  for  the  purpose,  with  four  of 


THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN  99 

the  best  gig-liorses  that  the  Oxford  stables  could  produce, 
Frank  Raby  and  his  friend  Hargrave  thus  arranged  their 
plans  for  the  approaching  Bibury  Meeting.  Tliev  sent 
two  of  the  horses  to  Witney,  and  by  thus  relieving  those 
that  brought  them  from  Oxford,  they  were  enabled  to  go 
to,  and  return  from,  the  course,  and  be  in  their  college  at 
night — driving  alternate  stages,  for  the  furtherance  of 
their  mutual  improvement  in  tliis  hazardous  occupation, 
as  w^ell  as  for  their  mutual  pleasure  ;  and  all  went  well 
for  the  first  three  days.  Having  a  capital  leader  over  the 
last  ground,  who  wanted  nothing  but  holding,  and  keep- 
ing his  head  straight,  these  aspiring  youths  dashed  through 
the  crowd,  threading  the  carriages  and  horses  on  the  road, 
with  such  skill  and  dexterity  as  to  attract  much  notice — 
and,  at  length,  that  of  the  Prince,  who  had  been  watching 
their  manceuvres  on  the  race-course. 

"  Who  are  they  ? "  inquired  His  Royal  Highness  of  Mr. 
Lake. 

"  I  do  not  know  their  names,  sir,"  replied  Mr.  Lake, 
"  but  I  understand  they  are  Christchurch  men." 

"  Ask  their  names,"  resumed  the  Prince  ;  "  they  will  do, 
in  time,  that  is  to  say — if  they  doiiH  break  their  necks." 

I  w^ell  remember  the  scenes  at  Burford,  and  all  the 
neighbouring  towns,  after  the  races  of  the  day  were  over. 
That  at  Burford  beggars  description,  for,  independently 
of  the  bustle  occasioned  b}^  the  accommodations  necessary 
for  the  Club  who  were  domiciled  in  the  town,  the  con- 
course of  persons,  of  all  sorts  and  degrees,  and  all  in  w^ant 
of  something,  was  immense.  Our  young  Oxonians,  how- 
ever, had  taken  care  to  provide  for  themselves  in  this 
respect  ;  and  with  a  few  more  collegians,  and  kindred 
spirits  too,  had  formed  a  select  party  of  themselves,  and, 
by  paying  the  piper  well,  had  no  reason  to  complain. 
But  now  for  the  finale  to  this  ^^  lark,'''  I  might  say,  but 
that  word  was  not  used  in  those  days,  in  this  sense,  at 
least.  On  the  last  day  of  the  meeting,  all  having  hitherto 
gone  smoothly,  an  awkward  mishap  occurred,  but  which 
w^ill,  in  a  great  measure,  be  accounted  for  by  the  scene 
that  took  place  when  the  tandem  came  to  the  door  with 
Frank  Raby  on  the  bench. 

"  Come  along,  Hargrave,"  said  Frank,  "  I  am  sure  you 
have  had  wine  enough;  and,  as  foi'^^nyself,  I  can  scarcely 
tell  the  leader  from  the  wheeler,  besides,  you  know  this 
mare  won't  stand  much  longer  ere  she  begins  kicking,  and 


loo       THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN 

we  have  only  an  hour  and  forty  minutes  to  do  the  twenty- 
one  miles  in." 

"  Kick  away,"  said  Hargrave,  as  he  came  staggering 
towards  the  tandem  ;  "  you  know  I'd  rather  be  upset  than 
not  ;  who  cares  for  a  kicker,  with  a  kicking  strap  over  her 
back,  and  a  good  coachman  behind  her  ?  " 

"  Many  a  true  word  is  spoken  in  jest,"  says  the  proverb  ; 
the  mare  did  not  kick  ;  but  in  descending  one  of  those 
sharp  "  pitches,"  as  they  are  called  by  coachmen,  between 
Burford  and  Witney — which,  in  those  days,  were  often 
covered  with  half-broken  stone — and  at  by  far  too  quick 
a  rate,  she  stepped  on  one  of  them,  and  fell,  and  was 
dragged  some  distance  by  the  leader.  But  now  for  the 
fate  of  her  driver ;  he  escaped  with  only  some  slight 
bruises,  by  falling  on  the  mare  Avhilst  she  was  being 
dragged,  and  rolling  thence  to  the  ground  ;  but  Hargrave 
was  not  so  fortunate.  A  dislocation  of  his  left  shoulder 
was  the  result,  which,  he  being  a  very  muscular  young 
man,  it  required  the  united  strength  of  four  men  to 
reduce — putting  him  to  extreme  torture  for  the  time ; 
neither  did  he  speedily  recov^er  its  effects. 

But  there  is  another  proverb  which  applies  well  here. 
"  Good  comes  out  of  evil ;  "  as  it  did  in  this  case.  Both 
these  young  gentlemen  made  a  solemn  vow,  on  the 
morrow,  that  they  would  never  again  mount  either  a 
tandem  or  a  coach  box,  at  least,  not  with  reins  in  their 
hands,  when  they  had  drunk  too  much  wine  ;  and,  though 
they  became  very  celebrated  as  coachmen,  and  were 
occasionally  put  to  rather  a  severe  test,  they  most 
religiously  adhered  to  their  vow. 

It  was  reserved  to  Hogarth  to  write  a  scene  of  furniture. 
The  rake's  levee-room  ;  the  nobleman's  dining-room  ;  the 
apartments  of  the  husband  and  wife,  in  Marriage  A  la 
mode;  the  alderman's  parlour;  the  poet's  bed-chamber; 
and  many  others,  are  a  history  of  the  manners  of  the  age. 
Nevertheless,  as  the  furniture  and  other  accompaniments 
of  apartments  do,  in  a  great  measure,  describe  the  char- 
acters of  the  persons  who  inhabit  them,  I  will  attempt  a 
brief  sketch  of  the  rooms  occupied  by  the  two  Rabys,  at 
Christchurch,  as  also  those  of  Hargrave. 

The  apartments  of  Andrew  require  only  a  short  notice. 
A  bust  of  Shakspeare  was  on  one  table,  and  one  of  Sir 
Isaac  Newton  on  another  ;  prints  of  Mr.  Pitt  and  Mr. 
Fox,  and  also  of  Adam  Smith,  author  of  the  "  Theory  of 


THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN        loi 

Moral  Sentiments,"  adorned  the  walls  ;  and  a  handsome 
j)air  of  globes  were  on  a  side-table,  together  with  a  large 
portfolio  of  maps  and  drawings  of  flowers  from  nature. 
On  his  book-shelves  were  the  best  editions  of  the  classics — 
both  in  English  and  in  the  dead  languages — as  well  as 
the  chief  historical  works  of  sundry  nations  and  times. 
Neither  were  the  rooms  in  which  Frank  Eaby  was  domiciled 
by  any  means  wanting  in  books,  which  his  uncle  had  taken 
care  to  provide  for  him,  nor  were  they  altogether  uselessly 
bestowed  upon  him.  In  fact,  he  read  hard  by  starts,  but 
wanted  the  steady  apj^lication  of  his  brother,  which  was 
essential  to  cutting  a  figure  in  the  schools,  even  in  those 
days  when  examinations  were  not  over-strict.  But  the 
ornaments  of  these  rooms  were  of  a  very  different  char- 
acter to  those  of  his  brother  ;  and  as  the  taste  and  inclina- 
tions of  men  are  displayed  by  such  trifles,  it  will  not  be 
amiss  to  make  mention  of  them. 

On  his  mantel-shelf  was  a  beautiful  figure  of  a  race- 
horse, cast  in  alabaster,  and  over  it  hung  the  good  old- 
fashioned  print  of  Partner,  the  race-horse,  taking  a  sweat 
at  Newmarket.  That  of  Hambletonian  and  Diamond  had 
just  then  been  published,  and,  of  course,  was  to  be  found 
here,  as  well  as  in  many  other  rooms  in  this  aristocratic 
College.  The  celebrated  carriage  match  of  Lord  March 
(afterwards  Duke  of  Queensbury),  over  Newmarket 
Heath,  hung  vis  a  vis  to  the  match  between  MeynelFs 
Richmond  and  Smith  Barry's  Bluecap,  two  celebrated 
foxhounds,  over  the  Beacon  course  of  the  same  place.  The 
famous  prints,  "  in  caricatura,"  of  Dick  Knight  and  the 
Pytchley  Hunt,  were  also  to  be  seen,  as  well  as  an 
excellent  print  of  Robert  Forfeit,  so  many  years  hunts- 
man to  the  great  John  "Warde.  Tom  Oldacre,  on  Brush, 
just  then  published,  was  likewise  in  the  collection  ;  as  was 
Sir  Thomas  Mostyn's  favourite  foxhound  bitch,  Lady,  with 
her  whelps,  a  print  that  is  to  this  day  to  be  seen  in  half 
the  public-houses  in  Oxfordshire.  There  were  likewise 
paintings  of  Bonny  bell  and  Tyrant,  two  favourite  harriers 
in  his  father's  pack  ;  but  the  deficiency  of  globes  and  maps 
was  made  up  by  a  plentiful  assortment  of  four-horse  and 
hunting  whips,  boxing  gloves  and  fishing  rods,  and  sundry 
other  paraphernalia  of  the  sportsman. 

Hargrave's  rooms  were  very  similarly  adorned.  Arthur 
Wentworth,  the  earth-stopper,  was  suspended  over  his  fire- 
place.    A  Cheshire  pile  game-cock  was  above  that ;  and 


I02        THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN 

in  other  parts  of  his  sitting-room  were  the  following  well- 
known  2)rints  : — A  bitch  fox  and  her  cubs,  by  Sartorius  ; 
Humphreys  and  Mendoza  in  attitude  ;  the  Phenomena 
trotting  mare  ;  a  portrait  of  Eclipse,  with  John  Oakley 
(the  only  man  who  could  ride  him)  on  his  back ;  the  great 
Malay  cock  match  ;  the  York  "  Highflyer "  coach,  im- 
mortalized by  Hogarth ;  the  London  and  Shrewsbury 
mail ;  Jem  Howell,  the  celebrated  coachman  of  Costar's 
"  Oxford  and  Brummagem  Day,"  as  it  was  then  called  ; 
portraits  of  Bill  Stuart,  and  Bob  Dolly,  with  his  famous 
dog  Nelson,  "  the  cock  of  the  Oxford  walk  ; "  likewise 
an  excellent  picture  of  Squires  Draper  and  Newby,  two 
celebrated  Yorkshire  sportsmen,  representing  them  in  the 
grey  of  the  morning,  opening  the  door  of  the  kennel. 
Among  the  books  were  some  odd  numbers  of  the  "  Pacing 
Calendar  ; "  the  first  volume  of  the  "  Stud  Book,"  the  only 
one  then  published ;  "  Isaak  Walton,  on  Angling ; " 
"  Peacham's  Complete  Gentleman  ; "  and  some  numbers 
of  the  "  Sporting  Magazine,"  a  periodical  not  of  much  note 
in  those  days. 

In  his  bedroom  was  a  good  show  of  whips,  both  for 
hunting  and  for  the  road,  all  made  by  Mr.  Crowther  of 
Swallow  Street,  the  crack  man  of  that  day,  and  who  sold 
them  for  a  crack  j)rice. 

"But  icere  there  not  always  cracTc  men?"  was  the  answer 
Hargrave  made  to  some  one  who  asked  him  why  he  gave  a 
guinea  for  his  four- horse  whips,  when  good  ones  were  to 
be  had  for  half  the  sum?  "You  may  get  them  cheaper, 
doubtless,  but  where  will  you  get  them  so  good "?  Are 
there  more  than  two  men  in  England,  who  can  make  a 
really  good  hunting  saddle  ? "  And  what  else  was  to  be 
seen  in  this  bachelor's  bedroom  ?  why,  not  much  beyond 
what  was  commonly  found  in  a  gentleman  commoner's 
bed-chamber  at  this  time,  whose  only  object  was  to  find 
repose  from  the  fatigues  of  the  day,  or  to  shake  off  the 
fumes  of  bad  wine.  There  was,  however,  a  print  of  a 
sleeping  Venus,  suspended  against  the  wall,  with  some 
lines  of  his  own  written  under  it,  merely  expressive  of  his 
high  admiration  of  the  human  form  ;  and,  pinned  to  the 
curtain  of  his  bed,  so  as  to  be  visible  by  him  when  awake, 
the  words  diluculd  exsurgam  legibly  written  on  a  slip  of 
white  paper.  But  there  was  something  more  than  met 
the  eye  of  a  common  observer  in  these  words.  It  was 
not  the  mere  act  of  early  rising,  which  these  words  imply, 


THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN        103 

that  stood  so  high  in  Mr.  Hargrave's  estimation  ;  the  fact 
was,  he  found,  by  experience,  that  by  being  what  is  called 
"  a  good  man  at  morning  chapel,"  he  obtained  the  credit  of 
being  a  regular  man  in  his  college,  whereas,  in  truth,  he 
was  anything  but  that.  Although  perfectly  free  from  all 
vicious  propensities,  and  one  of  the  most  popular  men  at 
Oxford,  at  the  time,  he  was  what  would  now  be  termed 
"  an  out-and-out  larker,"  and  as  often  broke  through  the 
rules  and  trammels  of  the  University  as  any  other  young 
gentleman  of  his  day  on  its  books. 

Carthage  is  said  only  to  have  produced  one  Hannibal  ; 
and  great  men,  in  their  way,  are  scarce  in  all  modern  com- 
munities. At  the  time  I  am  alluding  to,  very  good  horse- 
men over  a  country  were  much  more  rare  than  they  now 
are  ;  and  there  were  not  more  than  a  dozen  in  the  Uni- 
versity of  Oxford  who  were  entitled  to  be  called  such. 
The  very  best  among  them,  however,  was  Hargrave,  who 
united  all  the  good  properties  essential  to  riding  well  after 
hounds.  He  possessed  great  strength,  unaccompanied  by 
great  weight,  not  exceeding  twelve  stone  (fourteen  pounds 
to  the  stone),  with  his  saddle,  which  is  considered  the  best 
of  all  weights  for  crossing  a  strong  country,  and  for  this 
reason  :  the  twelve-stone  man,  independently  of  his  power 
to  assist  his  horse,  to  pull  open  gates,  and  knock  about 
obstacles  of  any  sort,  is  almost  sure  to  be  mounted  on  a 
horse  worthy  to  be  called  a  hunter,  that  is,  a  horse  of 
power ;  whereas,  your  nine  or  ten-stone  sportsman  is  too 
often  mounted  on  what  is  called  "  a  nice  little  horse,"  to 
carry  his  weight  ;  in  other  words,  a  cat-legged  weed,  not 
worthy  the  name  of  hunter,  and  which  gets  knocked  back- 
wards, or  turned  heels  upward,  by  a  strong  grower  in  a 
hedge,  which  the  horse  of  a  twelve-stone  man  would  drive 
before  him,  or  break.  Then,  to  use  a  vulgar  expression, 
Hargrave  had  the  nerves  of  a  bull-dog,  in  the  field,  and 
would  turn  from  no  fence  that  he  considered  there  was  a 
chance  to  get  over  when  in  chase  ;  but  was  free  from  the 
folly  of  taking  unnecessary  leaps,  merely  to  display  his 
horsemanship.  And,  perhaps,  one  proof  of  his  good  horse- 
manship may  be  gathered  from  this  fact, — his  horses  had 
both  been  purchased,  at  his  request,  when  young  and  ran:, 
as  the  term  is,  that  he  might  have  the  task  of  making 
them  hunters  by  his  own  hand  ;  and  capital  hunters  did 
he  make  them,  although  differing  much  from  each  other. 
Rupert,  a  large-bodied,  sleepy-looking  bay  gelding,  about 


I04        THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN 

fifteen  hands  two  inches  high,  with  long  shoulders  and 
quarters,  and  short  back,  standing  over  a  great  deal  of 
ground,  upon  short  and  large  legs  ;  wanting  nothing  in 
his  mouth  except  a  plain  snaffle  bit,  but  requiring  spurs 
in  his  sides  over  almost  every  yard  that  he  went ;  would 
leap  timber,  either  fljdng  or  standing,  according  to  his 
rider's  pleasure  ;  was  one  of  the  best  creepers  in  the  world, 
consequently,  seldom  got  into  scrapes  ;  and  wanted  no- 
thing but  a  turn  more  speed  to  make  him  one  of  the  best 
hunters  in  the  world.  He  was,  however,  as  stout  as  steel 
and — no  small  recommendation  to  an  Oxford  man's  horse 
— he  could  "  come  again,"  as  the  grooms  say,  very  quickly, 
after  a  hard  run,  and  was  good,  on  the  average  of  sport, 
for  four  days  in  a  fortnight ;  at  all  events,  for  three. 

Topthorn,  his  other  horse,  was  an  animal  of  a  different 
description.  In  the  first  place,  he  was  better  bred  ;  and, 
in  the  next,  in  a  form  altogether  different  to  Rupert. 
He  was  what  is  called  an  "  up-standing  horse,"  nearly 
sixteen  hands  high  ;  not  large-bodied,  although  an  ex- 
cellent feeder,  and  with  very  good  legs.  As  a  fencer,  he 
was  quite  out  of  the  common  way,  both  at  height  and 
width,  although  there  was  one  imperfection  in  his  fencing, 
from  which  he  derived  his  name ;  and  here  he  was  the 
very  reverse  of  Rupert.  He  was  not  only  not  a  creeper 
— much  less  a  standing  leaper — but  so  far  from  leaping 
into  a  fence,  as  every  hunter  ought  occasionally  to  do, 
when  required,  he  could  scarcely  be  made  to  go  near 
enough  to  his  fences  before  he  rose  at  them,  so  great  was 
his  dislike  to  feel  a  thorn  or  brier  about  his  legs.  His 
pace  was  also  far  better  than  Rupert's  —  good  enough, 
indeed,  for  any  country  and  any  hounds ;  he  was  capital 
at  both  timber  and  water,  and,  barring  the  imperfection 
which  gave  him  his  name,  one  of  the  most  accomplished 
hunters  of  his  day.  This,  indeed,  may  be  inferred  from 
the  following  rather  uncommon  fact :  —  A  nobleman, 
residing  in  Oxfordshire,  but  then  hunting  in  Leicester- 
shire, offered  him  400  guineas  for  Topthorn.  His  answer 
was  laconic,  but  creditable  to  him,  and  may  be  said  to 
have  "given  token  of  a  goodly  day  to-morrow." 

"  I  shall  not  take  400  guineas  for  my  horse,"  said  this 
promising  young  sportsman.  "  I  am  not  in  debt :  and  I 
see  no  reason  why  I  should  not  ride  a  good  horse  with 
hounds,  as  well  as  his  lordship." 

As  may  naturally  be  supposed,  Hargrave  was  not  only 


THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN        105 

looked  to  as  a  pilot  in  the  field,  by  all  the  novitiates  in  the 
"  noble  science  "  at  that  time  in  the  University  ;  but  Frank 
Raby,  who  had  been  well  entered  to  hounds,  previously 
to  his  matriculation  at  Christchurch,  looked  to  him  for 
instruction  and  improvement.  And  he  need  not  have 
gone  much  farther  for  instruction  :  his  seat  was  firm,  and 
altogether  good,  with  his  body  pliably  erect  ;  his  feet 
well  out  in  front ;  the  knee  nearly  straight,  and  not  bent 
at  an  angle  by  short  stirrup-leathers,  as  it  was  too  often 
seen  in  those  days  ;  on  the  contrary,  he  sat  well  down 
upon  his  fork,  with  his  head  up,  and,  as  he  said  of  himself, 
he  rode  with  a  light  hand  and  an  easy  bit.  As  for  the 
bay  horse,  that  is  to  say,  Rupert,  a  child  might  have 
almost  ridden  him  to  hounds  ;  but  it  required  a  horseman 
to  handle  Topthom  ;  and  it  was  from  seeing  Hargrave's 
performance  on  him,  that  Frank  Raby  acquired  lessons 
which  he  never  forgot,  and  which  afterwards  perfected 
him  in  the  horseman's  art. 

In  proportion  to  the  number  of  young  men  of  family 
and  fortune  rising  up  in  the  world,  will  be  the  proportion 
of  the  various  occupations  and  pursuits  which  their 
several  inclinations  lead  them  to  engage  in.  That  fox- 
hunting has  ever  been,  and,  it  is  to  be  hoped,  ever  will  be 
one,  it  is  scarcely  necessary  to  add  ;  although,  at  the  time 
I  am  alluding  to,  there  were  fewer  followers  of  the  chase 
in  the  Universities  than  are  to  be  found  in  them  at  the 
present  day.  In  fact,  I  have  already  said  there  were  only 
about  a  dozen  really  good  workmen,  at  this  period,  at 
Oxford,  who  kept  hunters  during  term,  and  who  may  be 
said  to  have  done  the  thing  in  a  truly  workman-like  style 
throughout.  Amongst  them  was  a  commoner  of  Oriel,  who 
accompanied  Hargrave  and  Frank  Raby,  on  a  fine  morning 
in  the  first  week  in  December,  to  Oddington  Ashes,  a 
favourite  cover  in  the  Beaufort  Hunt ;  their  horses  having 
been  sent  to  ChijDping  Xorton  on  the  preceding  evening, 
the  distance  from  Oxford  being  upwards  of  twenty  miles. 

In  those  days  there  were  not  the  crowds  of  horsemen 
with  hounds,  composing  what  is  termed  "  the  field,"  that 
are  now  to  be  seen  ;  but,  on  the  day  of  which  I  am  speak- 
ing, about  fifty  well-mounted  gentlemen  and  half  a  dozen 
farmers  were  assembled — all  having  some  pretensions  to 
be  called  sportsmen  ;  in  other  words,  they  were  met  to- 
gether for  very  difterent  purposes  than  riding  at,  or  over, 
each  other,  after  the  manner  of  our  steeple-chase  jockeys 


io6        THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN 

of  these  times ;  and  driving  hounds  over  the  scent,  as 
if  that  instinctive  agent,  called  nose,  was  by  no  means 
necessary  to  their  pursuing  it,  to  the  final  accomplishment 
of  their  object — the  death  of  a  stout  fox. 

It  is  unnecessary  to  relate  all  the  particulars  of  this 
day's  hunting  ;  suffice  it  to  say,  that  a  fox  was  soon  found, 
and,  after  having  taken  two  deep  rings  in  this  justly 
celebrated  cover,  broke  under  the  most  favourable  cir- 
cumstances ;  namely,  with  the  body  of  the  hounds  on  the 
scent,  and  the  horsemen  where  they  should  be  ;  not 
too  near,  to  drive  them  over  the  scent,  or  so  far  distant 
from  them  as  to  be  unable  to  enjoy  them  in  their  work. 
Still  there  was  one  thing  unusual  in  the  break.  The 
general  run  of  foxes  from  Oddington  Ashes  is,  what  is 
called  in  that  country,  "  up  hill ; "  that  is  to  say,  not  down 
the  vale,  but  either  for  the  woods  of  Heythrop,  or  Ditchley, 
or,  as  oftentimes,  for  the  forest  of  Witchwood.  Upon  this 
day,  however,  the  fox  took  a  very  different  course,  going 
straight  down  the  vale  for  Pain's  Furze,  near  to  the 
town  of  Moreton-in-Marsh,  and  thence  to  Bourton  Wood 
—  beyond  Bourton-on-the-Hill  —  now  hunted  by  Lord 
Segrave.  Nor  was  this  regretted  by  the  young  Oxonians, 
although  it  took  them  in  a  contrary  direction  to  their 
homes.  It  gave  to  Frank  Eaby,  and  to  the  commoner 
of  Oriel  —  whose  name,  by-the-by,  was  Goodall  —  an 
opportunity  of  witnessing  the  fine  horsemanship  and 
good  judgment  of  Hargrave,  whom  they  selected  as  their 
pilot  in  as  severe  a  country  as  hounds  often  run  over.  In 
the  first  place,  they  had  the  Kingham  brook  to  leap,  and 
the  Kingham  field  to  cross,  which  none  but  good  horses 
can  do,  and  live  with  hounds  when  they  are  going  their 
best  pace,  as  they  did  in  the  run  I  am  alluding  to.  And 
it  told  on  the  horses  that  crossed  it  on  this  day.  It 
reduced  the  number  that  started  with  the  hounds  to,  at 
most,  one-third ;  and  the  field  soon  became,  what  in  these 
days  is  termed,  "  most  desirably  select."  But  the  trial 
of  trials  was  yet  to  come.  There  runs  through  this  rich 
vale  a  brook  called  the  Evenload — commonly  called  the 
Emload — which  not  more  than  one  man  in  twenty  would 
ride  at,  in  those  days,  nor  will  more  than  one  man  in  ten 
get  well  over  it  in^  these.  In  fact,  it  is,  in  many  places, 
all  but  a  stojjper ;  in  all,  a  very  serious  affair  for  horses  a 
little  pumped  out  by  the  pace,  the  banks  being  far  from 
good,   and   the  water  both  wide  and  deep.     Now  it  so 


THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN        107 

happened  that,  by  a  lucky  turn,  Goodall,  and  a  hard- 
riding  parson  of  that  time,  arrived  first  at  the  brook,  and 
the  parson  took  it  in  his  stroke.  Neither  did  Goodall 
intend  doing  otherwise.  Taking  a  good  pull  at  Pineapple 
(for  such  was  his  horse  called,  in  consequence  of  the  deep 
scoring  of  his  legs,  by  some  merciless  operator,  with  the 
firing  irons)  at  about  a  hundred  yards  from  its  banks,  he 
sent  him  manfully  at  it,  but  by  not  extending  himself  far 
enough,  he  dropped  short,  and  fell  backwards,  with  his 
rider  under  him,  into  the  stream  ! 

"  He  is  in,  by  heavens,"  exclaimed  Hargrave,  who  saw 
the  mishap,  "  and  the  parson  has  it  all  to  himself." 

".Hell  be  smothered,"  said  Frank  Eabv  ;  "  what's  to  be 
done  J" 

"Xothe,"  resumed  Hargrave,  "  Ae's  clecw  of  his  horse;  do 
you  go  quick  at  the  brook  to  the  right,  and  I'll  go  to  the  left. 

No  sooner  said  than  done  ;  both  charged  it  and  got  over, 
and  six  more  of  the  field  did  the  same  thing  ;  but  it  was 
a  trial  of  nerve  to  a  young  one  to  ride  at  a  place  of 
this  description,  in  which  his  friend  and  his  horse  were 
floundering,  and  within  twenty  yards  of  him  at  the  time. 

No  one  headed  the  parson,  who  kept  the  lead  to  the 
end,  the  fox  having  sunk  before  the  pack  within  a  field 
of  Bourton  Wood,  the  earths  of  which,  being  open,  might 
perchance  have  saved  his  life. 

"Well  done,  my  old  college"  exclaimed  the  parson,  as  he 
saw  the  two  Christchurch  men  amongst  the  eleven  that 
were  in  at  the  death,  and  no  more  appeared  until  the  fox 
was  broken  up  by  the  pack,  and  then  only  the  few  who 
had  passed  the  brook  by  a  bridge. 

"  But  what  is  become  of  Mr.  Goodall  ? "  was  the  anxious 
inquiry  of  many. 

"  I  saw  him  safe  on  the  bank,"  replied  a  whipper-in  ; 
"and  I  told  a  farmer  to  send  some  men  to  assist  his  horse, 
which  he  promised  he  would  immediately  do."  And  he 
was  as  good  as  his  word.  Pineapple  was  pulled  out  by  a 
team  of  horses,  not  much  the  worse  for  his  disaster  ;  and 
when  his  brother  collegians  returned  to  Chipping  Norton, 
where  their  hacks  awaited  their  arrival,  they  found  the 
one  comfortably  dressed  in  his  stall,  and  the  other  in  the 
act  of  finishing  a  good-sized  bowl  of  hishop,  which  he  had 
swallowed  after  his  luncheon,  by  way  of  keeping  out  the 
cold,  as  has  ever  been  the  good  practice,  as  well  of  ancient 
as  of  more  modern  times. 


io8        THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN 


CHAPTEK  VII 

A  trip  to  Ascot  Races,  succeeded  by  an  inquiry  into  the  systems 
and  methods  of  travelling,  from  the  earliest  ages  to  the  golden 
age  of  the  road  in  England. 

ON  the  morning  following  his  arrival  in  town,  Frank 
Raby  received  the  following  letter  from  his  friend, 
Sir  John  Inkleton  : — 

"Stevens's  Hotel,  Bond  Street,  June. 
"  Dear  Frank, — I  arrived  in  town  last  night,  and 
hope  to  see  you  here  to  dinner  to-morrow  at  six  o'clock. 
It  is  of  no  use  asking  the  old  one  ;  he  is  no  company  for 
you  and  me,  for  he  once  told  me  he  could  not  live  with 
men  '  whose  talk  was  of  bullocks.'  I  twigged  what  he 
meant.  However,  he  is  not  a  bad  sort  of  fellow  at  bottom  ; 
and  all  the  harm  I  wish  him  is,  that  he  were  safely  landed 
in  heaven,  and  you  had  his  money.  I  think  you  would 
make  a  better  use  of  it  than  he  does,  with  his  antics,  as  old 
Dick  says.  I  shall  ask  Jack  Webber  to  meet  you,  and  we 
will  have  some  coaching  talk.  The  nags  are  all  in  town — 
two  rare  teams,  and  two  rest  horses — ten  in  all ;  they 
will  be  Tjuite  ready  for  Ascot  on  Tuesday,  when  you  shall 
have  a  seat  on  the  box. — Believe  me,  yours  ever, 

"  John  Ixkletox. 

"P.-S. — I  saw  Jack  Bailey  to-day,  who  spoke  of  you. 
By-the-bye,  they  were  all  well  at  the  Abbey  when  I  left 
home,  Andrew  making  the  agreeable  to  old  and  young, 
especially  to  the  Chapmans,  but  I  think  Egerton  has 
nailed  the  youngest,  and  the  eldest  won't  do  at  any  price. 
Andrew  is  an  out-and-out  slow  one,  except  at  Latin, 
Greek,  and  the  Fathers ;  and  there,  Egerton  says,  he  is 
not  easy  to  beat." 

The  hour  of  six  being  arrived — there  were  no  eight  or 
nine  o'clock  dinners  in  those  days — Sir  John,  his  friend 
Jack  Webber,  a  great  amateur  coachman,  Frank  Raby,  and 
Hargrave,  met  at  Stevens's  Hotel,  as  appointed,  and  sat 
down  to  a  dinner  of  the  best  of  everything,  in  one  of  the 
private  rooms.     The  following  was  a  part  of  their  talk  : — 


THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN        109 

Sir  John. — "  Well,  Jack,  glad  to  meet  you  once  more  ; 
what  news  in  town  ? " 

Webber. — "Why,  the  devil  to  pay  at  the  'Bull  and 
Mouth.'  They  have  got  the  distemper  in  the  yard,  and 
they  have  taken  Will  Brydges  off  the  Shrewsbury 
'  Union,'  the  best  coach  out  of  London  for  a  coachman, 
and  put  him  on  the  Bristol  '  Blue.'  Besides,  they  talk  of 
docking  them  all  of  the  short  shillings  the  first  stage,  in 
and  out,  which  is  not  fair,  because  we  all  know  that 
London  coachmen  are  at  heavier  expenses  for  lodging  and 
food  than  those  who  work  down  in  the  country." 

Sir  John. — "And  the  '  Swan  with  Two  Necks,'  how  go 
they  on  there  ? " 

Webber. — "Oh,  all  right,  as  regards  the  nags — never 
better  ;  but  the  devil's  own  work  between  the  '  Telegraph ' 
and  the  '  Defiance,'  on  the  Manchester  road.  I  saw  Bob  ^ 
go  out  with  his  coach  to-day,  and  Jack  ^  yesterday,  both 
very  flash  indeed  ;  in  short,  dressed  more  like  gentlemen 
than  coachmen." 

Sir  John. — "And  Jack  Hale,  how  is  he  ?" 

Webber. — "  Never  better ;  and  his  stock  looks  as  well 
as  he  does.  He  has  just  accepted  the  office  of  secretary 
to  the  Benevolent  AVhip  Club,  to  which  several  of  our 
friends  have  subscribed  handsomely." 

Sir  John. — "An  excellent  institution  that.  No  class  of 
persons  stand  more  in  need  of  something  of  the  sort,  to 
enable  them  to  fall  back  upon,  in  case  of  illness  or 
accident,  to  which  they  are  so  much  exposed,  as  coachmen 
and  guards  do.  I  shall  see  Jack  when  he  comes  in,  to- 
morrow, and  tell  him  to  put  down  my  name  for  ten 
guineas  a  year.  I  have  had  no  less  than  three  coachmen 
and  two  guards  invalided  at  my  house  in  the  country, 
during  the  last  two  years,  who  might  not  have  required 
my  assistance  had  they  been  members  of  the  '  Benevolent 
Club.' " 

Webber. — "  I  suppose  you  have  seen  Jack  Bailey,  as  his 
coach  came  in  about  two  hours  ago  ? " 

Sir  John. — "  Of  course  I  did,  and  showed  him,  by  his 
oivn  ivatch — at  least,  by  the  one  which  once  was  his — how, 
to  a  minute,  he  had  kept  his  time.  '  It's  a  wonder  I  did, 
Sir  John,'  said  Jack,  '  for  the  roads  be  in  a  queerish  state, 
after  that  'ere  thunder-storm  yesterday  ;  and  there  is  at 

1  Bob  Snow,  now  on  the  Brighton  road,  and  Jack  Marchant,  who 
died  landlord  of  the  "  Greyhound  Inn,"  at  Newmarket. 


no        THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN 

least  half  a  ton  of  Birmingham  shillings  in  the  front 
boot.'  All  the  better  for  the  way-bill,  said  I  ;  and  as 
for  the  bad  shillings,  as  Jack  observed,  that's  nothing  to 
nobody  ;  all  trades  must  live,  and  we  are  all  honest  men 
till  we  are  found  out." 

At  this  moment  the  door  opened,  and  in  walked  Frank 
Kaby. 

Sir  John. — "  Frank  !  my  boy,  how  are  you  ? — glad  to 
see  you  once  more  ;  let  me  introduce  you  to  Mr.  Webber, 
an  old  Etonian  and  Christchurch  man  ;  like  ourselves, 
devilish  fond  of  the  road,  a  right  good  coachman,  but  not 
much  of  a  foxhunter." 

Webber. — "  Happy  to  make  your  acquaintance,  Mr. 
Raby.  Inkleton  tells  me  you  are  one  of  us ;  fond  of  the 
ribbons,  eh  ?  Bailey  says  you  were  one  of  his  best  pupils 
when  at  Eton,  and  Jack  Hale  says  there  are  few  better 
out  of  Oxford — gownsmen,  of  course." 

Frank. — "I  am  very  fond  of  driving  four  horses,  but 
do  not  pretend  to  call  myself  a  coachman.  If  I  make 
one  in  Jive  years  from  this  time,  I  shall  think  myself  very 
fortunate." 

Webber. — "  It  cost  me  ten,  and  as  many  hundreds  of 
pounds  as  well.  My  bill,  with  old  Mother  Jones,  at 
Oxford,  for  box-coats  for  guards  and  coachmen,  was  never 
imder  a  hundred  per  annum,  for  many  years  ;  and  I  am 
afraid  to  say  what  it  has  cost  me  in  four-horse  whips,  also 
given  away.  Then  my  scores  at  public-houses,  on  different 
roads,  was  something  approaching  fifty  pounds  a  year  for 
what  coachmen  and  guards  call  their  'allowance.'  For 
example,  that  at  the  '  Magpies,'  on  Hounslow  Heath,  for 
I'um-and-milk  to  the  mail  coaches,  up  and  down,  was 
no  joke — generally  exceeding  twenty  pounds.  No  house 
on  the  road  makes  such  capital  rum-and-milk  as  the 
^Magpies'  does  ;  the  coachmen  call  it  '  milking  the  bull.' 
But  I  don't  regret  the  money  I  spent  in  this  way,  for 
many  reasons.  It  gave  me  an  insight  into  all  sorts  of 
life  ;  it  made  me  a  coachman,  which  nothing  but  road- 
work  will  do  ;  it  gave  me  an  opportunity  of  doing  many 
a  kind  act  towards  persons  who  were  not  so  fortunately 
cast  in  life  as  myself ;  and  last,  though  not  least — for  I 
never  encouraged  what  I  considered  a  worthless  fellow, 
or  a  blackguard — I  have  reason  to  believe  I  have  con- 
tributed, with  others,  equally  fond  of  the  ribbons  as 
myself,  towards  the  commencement  of  a  new  era  amongst 


THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN        in 

coachmen  and  guards.  From  the  notice  taken  of  them, 
by  gentlemen,  they  appear  to  be  endeavouring  to  make 
themselves  worthy  of  their  regard  and  protection  ;  and  if 
such  should  prove  the  case,  I  shall  never  regret  the  many 
hundred  guineas  they  have  received  from  me.  Neither 
is  the  obligation  all  on  one  side.  I  have  been  indebted 
to  them  for  much  amusement,  which  I  could  not  have 
enjoyed  but  with  their  permission  ;  and  it  must  be 
remembered  that  they  gave  me  that  permission  at  the 
risk  of  losing  their  places.  But  you  are  very  fond  of 
hunting,  as  well  as  driving,  Mr.  Raby.  I  know  all  about 
you  from  Hargrave,  who  is  the  son  of  a  friend  of  my 
father's,  and  a  really  good  fellow  too." 

Frank. — "  I  am  very  fond  of  both  ;  but  am  afraid  I 
shall  not  be  able  to  enjoy  them,  or  even  one  of  them,  in 
perfection." 

Webher.—''  And  why  not  ? " 

Frank. — "  I  shall  not  be  able  to  afford  the  expenses.  I 
fear  I  shall  not  be  content  with  the  common  run  of 
countries,  after  what  I  have  heard  of  Leicestershire  and 
Northamptonshire  ;  and,  fond  as  I  am  of  road-work,  I 
should  like  to  have  a  team  of  my  own." 

JFebber. — "  Oh  !  no  fear.  By  what  I  have  heard,  from 
Hargrave  and  others,  you  have  a  rich  old  uncle,  at  whose 
death  you  will  succeed  to  a  very  large  property,  chiefly 
in  money,  and  that  the  worthy  gentleman  is  not  likely  to 
be  long-lived.  That  being  the  case,  you  will  not  want 
for  money  in  this  town  of  London,  for  there  are  plenty  of 
money-lending  rascals  who  will  advance  you  what  sum 
you  may  require  on  your  expectations.  Besides,  no  doubt, 
your  father  will  leave  you  a  good " 

Sir  John. — "  Hold  hard,  there,  Webber  ;  I  don't  like 
the  post-obit  system  at  all.  Remember  what  happened 
to  Newland,  who  was  at  Oxford  with  me.  Besides, 
although  I  think  it  very  probable  that  Raby's  father  will 
leave  our  young  friend  the  Hopewell  estate,  which  is  not 
entailed,  you  must  be  aware  that  his  expectations  from 
his  uncle  are  merely  expectations.  It  is  still  possible  he 
may  marry,  and  have  children,  which  of  course,  Moses 
would  take  into  the  calculation  ;  in  which  case,  the  raising 
money  by  post-obit  would  be  most  ruinous. 

Webber. — "  What  happened  to  Newland  ?  he  was  after 
my  time  at  college,  and  I  never  heard  anything  about 
him  in  the  money  way  ;  but  I  know  he  was  very  fond  of 


112        THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN 

racing,  and  used  to  say  that,  from  his  great  talent  for 
calculation,  he  expected  to  make  a  fortune  by  the  turf." 

Sir  John.—''  He  lost  £100,000,  at  least,  by  talking  of 
post-obiting  his  aunt.  He  called  out,  publicly,  in  the 
ring  at  Newmarket,  '  TFhat  odds  will  anyone  het  me,  that  I 
do7i't  ivin  the  Derby,  in  four  years  after  my  old  aunt  dies  ? ' 
This  was  mentioned,  in  his  own  neighbourhood,  as  a  mere 
joke  ;  but  on  its  being  conveyed  to  the  ears  of  the  old 
lady,  by  the  parson  of  the  parish  in  which  she  lived,  and, 
of  course,  commented  upon  for  its  enormity,  he  was  left 
£100  to  purchase  a  mourning  suit  and  a  ring.  Now,  for 
what  I  know  of  Mr.  Beaumont  Raby,  he  would  be  very 
likely  indeed  to  pursue  the  same  plan  by  a  nephew  who 
might  post-obit  him." 

JFehber.—''  And  did  the  parson  get  the  £100,000  ? " 

Sir  John. — "  No,  thank  God  !  it  was  left  chiefly  to 
hospitals  and  Sunday  schools ;  but  poor  Newland  has 
never  held  up  his  head  in  the  world  since.  It  is  a  good 
lesson  to  all  young  gentlemen  who  attempt  to  post-obit 
their  relations.  If,  however,  my  young  friend  here  wants 
the  means  of  keeping  an  extra  hunter  or  two,  during  his 
uncle's  lifetime — for  I  am  quite  sure  he  will  not  need 
assistance  afterwards — I  will  take  care  he  shall  be  supplied 
with  them,  without  having  recourse  to  a  usurious  money- 
lender. But,  Frank,  my  good  fellow,  don't  get  much  into 
debt,  if  you  can  help  it.  Some  of  my  acquaintance  have 
never  recovered  the  effects  of  debt  contracted  early." 

Webber. — "  True  ;  but  I  think  the  fault  there  often  lies 
with  the  old  ones.  Every  father  ought  to  ask  his  son, 
when  he  quits  the  University,  what  debts  he  has  left 
unpaid  ?  when,  by  a  speedy  arrangement  of  them,  future 
expenses  and  extortion,  and,  in  no  few  cases,  ruin  to  the 
contractor  of  them,  would  be  avoided.  They  hang  like 
an  incubus  upon  a  man,  who  is  not  able  to  discharge  them 
at  the  time,  and  often  cause  him  to  be  reckless  in  his 
future  proceedings.  By-the-bye,  I  can  tell  you  a  good 
anecdote  on  this  subject,  and  it  relates  to  an  intimate 
friend  of  mine,  a  fellow- commoner,  of  Trinity  College, 
Cambridge.  Two  years  after  he  quitted  the  University, 
he  accompanied  his  father  to  one  of  the  Newmarket 
Meetings  —  all  of  which  he  attended  —  and  was  thus 
addressed  by  him  at  its  close  : — '  I  have  lately  seen,  in 
my  letter-bag,  a  considerable  number  of  letters,  addressed 
to  you,  bearing  the  Cambridge  post-mark,  which  leads  me 


THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN        113 

to  believe  you  have  some  scores  left  unpaid  in  that  town, 
in  spite  of  the  handsome  allowance  you  received  from  me. 
However,  as  you  spent  your  money  in  good  society,  and 
left  a  fair  name  behind  you  in  the  College,  I  shall  freely 
forgive  you,  if  my  suspicions  prove  to  be  just.  To- 
morrow morning,  then,  we  will  breakfast  at  Cambridge, 
on  our  return  to  town  ;  and  if,  in  two  hours  after  our 
arrival  there,  you  will  give  me  a  list  of  the  entire  of  your 
debts,  they  shall  all  be  embodied  in  one  cheque,  at  sight.' 
My  friend  was  placed  in  rather  a  trying  position.  The 
entire  of  his  debts — and  his  father  laid  strong  emiJhasis 
on  the  epithet — amounted  to  above  £800,  a  sum  greatly 
exceeding,  as  he  thought,  his  liberal  father's  expectations  ! 
Then  what  was  to  be  done  1  To  have  given  in  a  muti- 
lated list  would  have  been  deceiving  himself,  by  deceiving 
his  father  ;  so  he  took  courage,  and  boldly  gave  in  the 
aggregate  amount.  His  generous  parent  took  his  cheque- 
book from  his  pocket,  and  having  drawn  on  his  banker 
for  the  required  amount,  never  afterwards  mentioned  the 
subject  in  the  presence  of  his  son  !  " 

Sir  John. — "  And  what  effect  had  all  this  on  your 
friend?" 

Webber. — "  The  best  possible  effect  ;  he  has  been  a 
prudent  man  ever  since.  But,  speaking  of  old  college 
friends,  let  me  ask  you,  Eaby,  how  you  like  my  friend 
Hargrave  ? " 

Frank. — "  Very  much,  indeed  ;  he  is  my  most  particular 
ally.  He  is  supposed  to  be  the  best  horseman  and  sports- 
man, combined,  in  the  University  ;  and,  in  every  respect, 
a  good  fellow." 

Webber. — "And  don't  you  like  Topthorn  and  Eupert?" 

Frank. — "  The  best  horses  in  Oxford." 

Sir  John. — "  Barring  Achilles  and  the  General,  Frank  ; 
but  I  suppose  your  modesty  induces  you  to  place  those  of 
your  friend  first  ? " 

Frank. — "  They  are  generally  first  in  the  field.  Sir 
John." 

Sir  John. — "  That  may  be  ;  Hargrave  is  an  older  hand 
than  you  are  over  a  country  ;  but,  with  equal  men  ujjon 
them,  I  should  be  inclined  to  back  Achilles  against 
Topthorn  in  a  severe  run." 

Frank. — "  He  has  not  got  the  speed  of  him,  Sir  John  ; 
neither  do  I  think  Achilles  can  cover  so  large  a  fence." 

Sir  John. — "  Well,  Frank,  I  commend  vour  candour — 
8 


114        THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN 

I  may  say,  your  sincerity  ;  for,  as  I  purchased  the  horses 
for  you,  you  might  have  compromised  truth  for  politeness' 
sake.  As  I  detest  a  boaster,  I  sincerely  commend  you  for 
what  you  have  said ;  and  now,  if  you  please,  we  will  sit 
down  to  our  soup." 

In  the  course  of  the  evening,  the  arrangements  for 
attending  Ascot  Races  were  thus  stated  by  Sir  John  : — 

"  I  shall  send  one  team  to  Staines,  where  it  will  remain 
during  the  meeting  ;  so  that  we  shall  go  and  return  on 
each  day,  which  will  add  much  to  our  amusement  ;  and 
I  think  our  party  will  be  a  pleasant  one  :  at  all  events,  I 
will  do  my  best  towards  making  it  such,  and  have  given 
orders  that  a  good  dinner,  for  eight,  shall  await  us  every 
day,  at  the  '  Bush '  ;  so  that  we  shall  have  the  road  clear 
for  us  on  our  return  to  town,  and  travel  in  the  cool  of  the 
evening,  when  the  crowd  of  cockneys  will  be  dispersed," 

It  is  not  worth  while  to  enter  into  the  detail  of  an 
Ascot  Meeting,  so  long  passed  by  as  this  is ;  but,  as  may 
easily  be  imagined,  the  splendour  of  the  scene,  unrivalled 
in  tiie  world,  made  a  deep  impression  upon  our  hero. 
Neither  was  it  the  scene  alone,  in  which  the  enthusiastic 
reception  of  the  Royal  Family  formed  a  principal  and  pleas- 
ing feature,  that  alone  impressed  his  mind.  He  saw  racing 
to  perfection.  He  saw  the  performance  of  the  best  horses 
and  the  best  jockeys  of  the  day  ;  amongst  the  latter,  the 
famous  Samuel  Chifney,^  and  John  Arnull,  both  riding  for 
the  Prince  of  Wales  ;  Tom  Goodison,  and  others  of  equal 
Newmarket  celebrity  ;  as  also  Billy  Pierse,  as  he  was 
called,  the  noted  Yorkshire  jockey,  then  riding  for  his 
Grace  of  Cleveland,  at  that  time  Lord  Darlington.  But 
we  must  not  forget  Dennis  Fitzpatrick,  imported  from 
Ireland  by  Lord  Clermont,  who  was  at  that  period  in  the 
height  of  practice,  but  whose  life  was  cut  short  by 
catching  cold  in  wasting.  Frank  Raby's  admiration  of 
these  men,  as  also  of  the  horses  on  which  they  distinguished 
themselves,  the  best,  perhaps,  of  their  day,  at  all  events 
very  superior  to  any  he  had  ever  seen  before,  was  almost 
boundless  ;  and  he  would,  now  and  then,  ask  himself  the 
question  : — "  Shall  /ever  make  a  figure  on  this  course  ?" 
The  answer  to  which,  he  must  be  aware,  depended  upon 
various  circumstances,  quite  beyond  his  control,  although 
within  the  range  of  speculation. 

On  the  first  morning  of  the  meeting — a  beautiful  one 
1  Father  of  the  present  jockey. 


THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN        115 

in  June — and  at  the  hour  of  ten  o'clock,  Sir  John's  team 
was  at  the  door  of  Stevens's  Hotel,  and  nothing  could  be 
more  correct  in  its  appointments.  The  coach  Avas  a  bright 
yellow,  neatly  picked  out  with  black,  and  a  plain  crest  on 
the  upper  door-pannel.  The  mountings  were,  of  course,  of 
brass,  to  suit  the  furniture  of  the  harness  ;  there  were  roof- 
irons  to  the  front  roof,  which  held  three  persons,  and 
a  comfortable  dickey  behind,  to  carry  the  two  servants. 
The  box  was  likewise  on  the  true  coaching  principle,  made 
to  sail  forwards  towards  the  wheel-hor.ses,  with  a  good 
roomy  footboard,  and  well-cushioned  seat,  allowing  plenty 
of  elbow-room  for  two.  The  horses  were  dappled  greys, 
which  did  credit  to  all  parties  ;  first,  to  their  owner,  for 
the  selection  of  them  ;  next,  to  the  men  who  had  the  care 
of  them  :  for  the  white  hairs  on  their  bodies  were  as 
white  as  the  driven  snow,  and  their  harness  equally  well 
polished.  But  Sir  John's  order  for  soap  was  unlimited, 
one  severe  tax  on  the  use  of  grey  coach-horses ;  and  it  is 
said  he  never  grumbled  if  the  year's  bill  for  that  purifying 
article  did  not  exceed  £100  ! 

The  \y^ivt\  assembled  on  this  occasion,  and  the  arrange- 
ment of  them  about  the  coach,  were  as  follows  : — Frank 
Raby,  according  to  promise,  on  the  box  (the  word  "bench  '" 
was  not  in  use  in  those  days),  by  the  side  of  his  friend  ; 
on  the  roof.  Lord  Edmonston,  Captain  Askham,  and  Ha  r 
grave,  whom  our  hero  had  introduced  to  his  friend,  who 
kindly  offered  him  a  seat :  inside  were  two  friends  of 
the  Baronet's,  non-coaching  men,  and  an  old  and  warm 
relation,  who  promised  to  pay  for  the  champagne,  both  on 
the  course  and  at  dinner,  for  the  four  days  of  the  meeting, 
on  condition  that  he  was  not  upset,  either  in  going  or 
returning. 

Now,  of  the  majority  of  this  party  it  is  not  necessary  to 
say  much.  Lord  Edmonston,  Hargrave,  our  hero,  and 
his  friend,  have  already  been  before  the  public  ;  and  the 
insides,  on  this  occasion,  were  good  and  worthy  gentlemen 
in  their  line,  but  of  no  pretensions  in  ours.  There  was, 
however,  one  conspicuous  character  on  the  way-bill,  which 
must  not  be  passed  over,  inasmuch  as  his  career  in  life,  up 
to  a  certain  period  of  it,  is,  we  may  presume,  without  a 
parallel  in  the  line  in  which  he  figured.  This  is  Captain 
Askham,  holding  his  commission"^  in  one  of  our  heavy 
dragoon  regiments,  whose  history  is  nearly  this  : — 

At  the  age  of  twenty-one,  he  succeeded  to  an  estate,  the 


ii6        THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN 

clear  rental  of  wliich  was  £8000  a  year,  and  a  considerable 
sum  of  ready  money  as  well,  lie  having  been  for  several 
years  a  minor.  His  passion  was,  the  road;  lie  had  never 
less  than  three,  often  four,  teams  at  work  at  the 
same  time  ;  and  at  one  period,  when  quartered  at  the 
distance  of  nearly  100  miles  from  London,  had  the  ground 
absolutely  "covered,"  as  the  term  is,  among  coach  pro- 
prietors, with  his  own  horses,  and  amused  himself  and 
his  friends  by  driving  his  coach  between  London  and  the 
town  in  which  he  was  quartered,  whenever  his  inclination 
prompted  him.  The  pace,  as  may  be  imagined,  was  an 
awful  one  ;  I  allude  not  to  the  rate  at  which  the  drag 
travelled,  but  to  that  at  which  the  cash  found  its  exit  out 
of  the  Captain's  pocket ;  for  champagne,  at  sixteen  shillings 
a  bottle,  was  the  ordinary  "allowance"  on  the  road,  to 
say  nothing  for  the  et  ceteras  in  London.  But,  nil  violentum 
est  2)er2Jetuum,  there  was  soon  a  stop  to  those  proceedings  ; 
and  here  is  the  best  part  of  the  story,  which  cannot  fail  to 
create  a  smile.  The  Captain,  like  our  hero,  had  a  rich 
uncle,  own  brother  to  his  father  ;  and  having  made  his 
fortune  in  trade,  was  the  more  readily  alarmed  at  the 
accounts  he  heard  of  his  coaching  nephew's  proceedings, 
especially  so  on  finding  that  his  bills  and  bonds  were  in 
the  market,  with  a  rumour,  now  and  then,  that  even 
expectations  from  himself,  at  his  decease,  were  anticipated 
in  his  dealings  with  the  money-lending  crew. 

"  Now  something  must  be  done,"  said  the  uncle  to 
himself,  "  to  save  tliis  nephew  of  mine  from  perdition  ; 
perhaps  the  best  step  I  can  take  will  be  to  surprise  him  in 
his  folly,  and  at  once  convince  him  of  its  consequences." 
Acting  upon  this  suggestion,  he  put  himself  into  the  mail  ; 
and  hearing,  on  his  arrival  in  London,  where  his  nephew 
was  then  domiciled  for  the  week,  namely,  at  a  celebrated 
and  most  expensive  inn,  not  fifty  miles  from  London,  the 
following  eclaircissement  took  place  on  his  entering  the 
stable-yard  of  the  same  : — 

"  Whose  coach  is  that  ? "  said  he  to  a  man  having  the 
appearance  of  a  helper  in  a  stable.  "  Captain  Askham's, 
sir,"  was  the  reply.  "  And  that  ?  "  continued  the  uncle. 
"Captain  Askham's,  sir,"  answered  the  helper.  "And 
that  break  ? "  "  The  Captain's,  sir."  "  And  that  travelling 
chariot  ? "     "  The  Captain's,  sir." 

Then  turning  into  a  stable  in  which  there  were  six 
fine  coach-horses: — "Whose   horses  are   these?"  was  the 


THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN        117 

question  put  to  another  helper.  "Captain  Askham's, 
sir."  "And  these?"  resumed  the  old  gentleman,  on 
finding  six  more  in  another  stable.  "  Captain  Askham's, 
sir."  '^ And  these ? " — ditto  repeated — in  a  third.  "Cap- 
tain Askham's,  sir."  "And  pray  whose  hear  is  that?" 
inquired  the  uncle  of  another  man,  whose  path  he  crossed 
in  the  yard.  "  Captain  Askham's,  sir."  "  And  the 
mon'key?  '''  "  The  Captain's,  sir."  "  My  God  !  "  exclaimed 
the  uncle  ;  "  and  pray  where  is  the  Captain  himself  ? " 
"  A-bed,  in  the  house,"  answered  his  informant.  "Let 
me  see  him,  then,"  resumed  the  old  one  ;  "show  me  the 
way  to  his  room." 

The  sequel  to  this  story  is  short.  The  uncle  addressed 
his  nephew  with  : — "  I  am  just  come  in  time  to  save  you 
from  a  jail.  Tn  six  months  more  you  will  be  in  one.  I 
will  advance  what  is  requisite  to  discharge  your  debts,  on 
your  assigning  to  me  the  rental  of  your  estate,  until  they 
are  all  liquidated  ;  and,  in  the  meantime,  I  will  allow  you 
two  thousand  pounds  a  year."  The  Captain  consented  to 
this  proposal.  He  retired  to  his  seat  in  a  distant  country, 
"to  starve,"  as  he  expressed  himself,  "on  two  thousand  a 
year  ; "  but  by  good  management,  the  general  result  of 
dearly-bought  experience,  he  contrived  to  live  very  much 
like  a  gentleman,  and  to  indulge  himself  in  his  favourite 
passion  for  the  road,  but  only  to  the  extent  of  one  coach, 
and  one  team  of  tolerably  good  greys.  In  a  few  years  his 
encumbrances  were  paid  off;  he  once  more  became  the 
receiver  of  his  own  rents,  and  no  man  made  a  better  use 
than  he  did  of  eight  thousand  a  year,  cutting  his  coat 
according  to  his  cloth,  and  having  nothing  more  to  do  with 
either  monkeys  or  bears. 

It  is  scarcely  necessary  to  observe,  that  this  party  had 
not  long  passed  through  Hide  Park  turnpike,  before  the 
subject  of  hunting  formed  a  part  of  their  discourse.  It 
was  commenced  by  Sir  John  himself,  with  some  questions 
put  to  Lord  Edmonston,  whom  he  had  not  seen,  until 
that  morning,  since  the  hunting  season  had  concluded. 

"Well,  Edmonston,"  said  Sir  John,  "what  have  you 
been  doing  this  season  in  Leicestershire  ?  I  mean  since 
Christmas,  because  Somerby,  who  has  been  visiting  his 
friends  in  our  part  of  the  world,  told  me  what  you  had 
done  previously  to  that  time.  I  daresay  you  have  had 
good  sport,  as  the  season  has  been  open,  and  there  have 
been  no  complaints  of  want  of  scent," 


ii8        THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN 

"  We  have  done  very  well  indeed,"  replied  liis  lordship, 
•'and  old  Meynell  has  been  in  high  force,  having  killed 
forty-one  brace  of  foxes,  about  his  usual  amount,  and  had 
capital  runs  with  many  of  them." 

"  Perhaps  you  will  give  us  the  history  of  one  of  them," 
resumed  Sir  John.  "  It  will  be  highly  amusing  to  our 
two  young  friends  here,  giving  them  an  insight  into  what 
they  hope,  one  day  or  another,  to  partake  of." 

"  I  will  do  so  with  pleasure,"  was  the  answer  ;  "  and  I 
think  the  Shoby  Scoales  run,  on  new-year's  day,  will 
answer  your  purpose  well. 

"  Shoby  Scoales  is  situated  in  the  finest  part  of  Leicester- 
shire ;  and,  being  a  sure  find,  the  announcement  of  the 
fixture  always  brings  out  a  large  field.  There  was,  on  this 
day,  a  splendid  field  of  horsemen  ;  and,  what  added  to  the 
animating  scene,  a  brilliant  display  of  ladies  in  carriages 
and  on  horseback,  the  morning  being  unusually  mild  for 
that  season  of  the  year. 

"  At  a  quarter  past  ten  o'clock,  the  hounds  were  thrown 
into  the  cover,  in  which  they  had  not  long  been  before 
Champion,  a  favourite  old  hound,  and  noted  for  finding 
his  fox,  challenged  on  a  scent,  and  was  instantly  cheered 
by  Mr.  Meynell.  '  Have  at  him.  Champion,  old  boy  ! ' 
he  holloaed  ;  '  you  never  told  me  a  lie !  Get  round  to  the 
lower  side  of  the  cover.  Jack,'  said  he  to  Jack  Jones,  the 
cork-legged  whip,  and  stop  his  breaking  there,  for  I  want 
to  have  a  Udder  to-day.'  No  sooner  said  than  done.  The 
fox  broke  up  wind,  and  faced  our  best  country,  viewed  by 
the  whole  field.  Of  course  we  were  all  ready  for  a  start, 
but  were  kept  in  check  by  Meynell  taking  off  his  cap  and 
holloaing — '  Hold  hard,  gentlemen  ;  pray  let  my  hounds 
get  fairly  out  of  cover,  and  settle  well  to  the  scent,  and 
then  rid e^ over  them  if  you  can.'  We  were,  however,  a  very 
short  time  kept  in  suspense  ;  for  the  gallant  pack  were  not 
only  too  well  bred,  but  too  well  taught  to  hang  in  cover 
after  their  game  had  left  it.  They  were  soon  out  in  the 
open,  with  the  scent  so  good,  that,  dropping  their  sterns 
and  raising  their  heads,  away  they  went,  at  such  an  awful 
pace,  that  we  might  have  'safely  taken  Meynell  at  his 
word,  and  ridden  over  them,  if  we  could  have  done  so.  In 
fact,  the  first  quarter  of  an  hour  was  so  fast,  that  ten 
minutes  more  would  have  brought  us  all  to  a  standstill. 
At  Ragdale,  however,  we  came  to  a  check,  the  hounds 
having  a  little  overrun  the  scent,  from  the  fox  turning 


THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN        119 

short  to  the  left,  which  gave  our  horses  some  relief.  A 
iudicious  cast  soon  put  us  to  rights  again,  and  away  we 
went,  at  our  former  speed,  to  Hoby  Town  ;  and  straight 
from  thence  to  Frisby  Gorse,  where,  fortunately,  we  once 
again  came  to  a  check  ;  for  the  pace  and  the  country  were 
both  awfully  severe.  Many  of  the  horses,  indeed,  had 
already  declined,  and  two  received  their  eternal  quietus, 
from  meeting  with  accidents  at  fences. 

"Our  fox  hung  just  long  enough  in  Frisby  Gorse  to 
give  the  horses  that  were  up,  second  wind,  and  away  we 
went  again,  up  to  Haines's  Gorse,  near  Great  Dalby,  at  a 
slashing  pace  ;  thence,  over  a  splendid  country,  to  Gadsby, 
when  John  Raven  caught  view  of  him,  in  a  large  grass 
field,  with  almost  every  hound  close  at  his  brush.  He 
contrived,  however,  to  reach  the  fence  ;  and,  slipping  short 
down  wind,  got  amongst  some  old  farm  buildings  in  a 
village,  and  once  more  brought  the  pack  to  check.  The 
scent  was  again  recovered,  by  some  masterly  casts  of  the 
'  old  one,'  who  never  appeared  to  greater  advantage  as  a 
superior  judge  of  fox-hunting,  than  he  did  on  that  day. 
After  forty  minutes'  cold  hunting,  we  found  ourselves 
close  to  Queenborough  village,  with  very  little  apparent 
chance  of  again  getting  near  to  this  most  gallant  fox, 
when  one  of  the  most  singular  circumstances  occurred 
that  was  ever  recorded  in  the  annals  of  English  fox- 
hunting. 

"  Everyone  who  knows  Meynell,  is  aware  of  his  in- 
vincible perseverance  in  doing  everything  that  can  be 
done  towards  killing  his  fox  ;  and  in  this  case  he  was 
determined  not  to  give  the  smallest  chance  away.  It 
occurred  to  him,  that  our  fox  had  either  got  into  a  drain, 
or  entered  some  out-building,  in  the  village  of  Queen- 
borough,  which  determined  him  on  once  more  trying  to 
recover  him.  He,  therefore,  walked  his  hounds  quietly 
among  the  houses,  and,  as  he  passed  the  church,  two  or 
three  couples  of  his  hounds  entered  the  yard.  Amongst 
these  was  our  friend  Champion,  who  almost  instantly 
threw  his  tongue  on  a  scent.  ^ He  is  among  the  dead!' 
exclaimed  Meynell ;  and,  putting  his  horse  at  the  wall, 
he  rode  over  it  in  his  usual  cool  and  beautiful  style.  The 
fox  had  actually  taken  possession  of  a  newly-made  grave, 
from  out  of  which  he  jumped  apparently  as  fresh  as  when 
first  found  ;  afforded  us  another  burst,  exceeded  by  pace 
and  severity  of  country  only  by  that  from  Frisby"^Gorse 


\2o       THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN 

to  Haines's,  in  the  morning,  and  quite  fast  enough  to 
satisfy  anyone.  In  fact,  he  went  from  Queenborough 
nearly  to  Syston  ;  when,  crossing  the  Leicester  road,  and 
charging  the  river  Soar  in  his  course,  we  ran  into  him 
close  to  the  windmill  on  the  hill,  within  a  few  hundred 
yards  of  Mount  Sorrel  Town ;  and  thus  ended  one  of  the 
finest  runs  ever  seen  in  that  or  any  other  country,  it 
having  consisted  of  every  description  of  hunting,  and 
of  every  descrijition  of  dilficulties,  which  could  put  the 
goodness  and  condition  of  hounds,  the  science  of  their 
huntsman,  the  bottom  of  the  horses,  and  the  nerves  and 
jud;j:ment  of  their  riders,  to  the  test. 

"  Were  I  to  relate  all  the  disasters  and  casualties  that 
occurred  on  this  memorable  day,"  resumed  Lord  Edmon- 
ston,  "  I  should  make  my  story  too  long  ;  and  I  wish  I 
could  conclude  it  without  stating  that  several  horses  died 
in  consequence  of  it.  I  must,  however,  mention  one  cir- 
cumstance relating  to  the  far-famed  master  of  the  pack. 
After  we  had  been  going  for  at  least  three-quarters  of  an 
hour,  and  at  the  best  pace,  with  our  horses  not  a  little 
the  worse  for  it,  all  of  us  who  were  up  with  the  hounds 
at  the  moment,  made  for  the  corner  of  a  large  grass-field, 
near  Dalby,  which  was  surrounded  by  an  immense  ox- 
fence,  and  particularly  strong  in  that  one  particular  part. 
"We  were  assured,  however,  that  the  gate  in  the  corner 
would  of)en,  and  this  by  that  good  old  sportsman,  Henton 
of  Hoby,  wlio  said  he  had  passed  through  it  that  morning  ; 
but  we  found,  to  our  cost,  there  was  no  longer  a  gate 
there.  It  had  been  broken  to  ^^ieces  by  some  bullocks, 
and  replaced  with  a  flight  of  rails,  so  high  and  so  strong 
as  to  bring  all  the  leading  men  to  a  standstill.  In  fact, 
we  were  turning  away  from  it  in  despair,  looking  for  a 
2>racticable  phice  in  the  ox-fence,  when  Meynell,  mounted 
on  his  famous  old  grey  horse,  came  up  ;  and,  without 
breaking  his  stride,  leaped  it  in  the  most  beautiful  style 
imaginable,  leaving  us  all  in  the  lurch,  for  a  time,  not  one 
having  the  nerve  to  follow  him,  although  the  hounds  were 
a  field  or  two  a-head,  running  with  a  breast-high  scent  at 
the  time."  ^ 

With  the  exception  of  the  Captain,  who  cared  nothing 

about  hounds,  and  whose  attention  was  chiefly  attracted 

to  the  movements  of  the  four  greys,  and   the   masterly 

style  in  which  they  were  handled  by  their  driver,  this 

1  This  is  a  fact. 


THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN        121 

interesting  description  of  a  run  with  Mr.  Meynell's 
hounds,  together  with  tlie  extraordinary  incidents  which 
occurred  in  it,  was  listened  to  with  much  delight ;  more 
especially  by  the  two  young  ones,  who  glanced  a  signifi- 
cant look  at  each  other,  towards  the  conclusion  of  it,  as 
much  as  to  say,  "  That  is  the  country  and  those  are  the 
hounds  for  us"  "  Sir  John,  indeed,  hegan  to  reflect  whether 
he  were  not  pursuing  a  losing  game  by  keeping  six  hunters 
in  his  o^^'n  country  instead  of  twice  six  in  Leicestershire, 
and  enjoying  fox-hunting  in  perfection.  But  there  were 
reasons  which  more  than  counterbalanced  this  very  strong 
inducement  on  his  part.  Independently  of  a  wish  to 
reside  on  his  own  property,  in  compliance  with  the  death- 
bed request  of  his  father,  his  passion  for  the  road  quite 
equalled  that  for  the  chase,  and  for  this  purpose  he  could 
nowhere  be  so  well  situated  as  at  home,  for  reasons  that 
have  already  been  detailed. 

But  to  return  to  the  journey  do^^^l  the  road.  The  first 
stop  was  at  Hounslow,  where,  according  to  the  usage  of 
those  days — slow  compared  with  the  present — the  bearing 
reins  were  let  down,  and  the  noses  of  the  horses  jjlunged 
into  a  bucket  of  cold  water,  with  a  swallow  or  two  each, 
and  most  refreshing  must  it  have  been  to  them,  after 
toiling  through  ten  miles  of  dust,  for  there  were  no 
watered  roads  in  those  days.  A  glass  of  sherry  and  a 
biscuit  were  also  partaken  of  by  the  party,  and  onward  they 
proceeded  towards  the  course.  At  the  point  at  which  the 
roads  branch  off — ^just  outside  of  the  to^^^l  of  Hounslow — 
the  Baronet  exclaimed,  pointing  to  the  Oxford  fingerpost : — 

"  That  is  my  old  road.  There  are  my  old  associations  ;  " 
and,  turning  himself  round  towards  Hargrave,  and  after- 
wards towards  his  young  friend  on  the  box,  he  added, 
•'  there,  no  doubt,  are  yours  also.  There  stands  the 
*  Magpies '  on  the  heath,  where  I  first  milked  the  bull, 
and  there  is  to  be  seen  Jack  Bailey,  my  faithful  friend 
and  preceptor,  coming  up  with  his  coach  ;  and  an  out- 
and-out  coachman  he  is.  And  next,  old  Baldwin  of 
Slough,  whose  books  were  always  as  open  to  me  as  his 
house,  whose  tick  was  as  good  as  his  wine  was  bad.  Then, 
passing  by  Eton — for  I  was  sick  of  that  place,  and  all  its 
host  of  learned  tyrants — what  can  beat  old  Shrul^b,!  at 
Benson,  and  a  good  dinner  in  No.  3  ?  But  I  am  not 
going  to  stop  there.  Can  I  forget  Christchurch,  and  the 
1  T?ie  landlord's  name,  at  the  head  inn. 


122        THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSiMAN 

happy  days  I  passed  within  its  walls  ?  They  never  have 
been  surpassed  by  any  others,  and  I  more  than  doubt 
whether  they  ever  will  be.  I  am  now,  however,  travel- 
ling in  a  new  direction,  and  shall  meet  with  none  but 
new  faces  on  this  road.  But  so  it  is  :  and  there  are  the 
nags  all  ready  for  us  in  the  street,  and  we  will  change 
quickly,  that  we  may  get  a  good  place  on  the  course." 

Kot  ten  minutes  had  elapsed  before  they  were  off  again, 
having  ordered  a  dinner  at  the  "  Bush  "  to  be  ready  for 
them  on  their  return,  some  particular  dishes  having  been 
bespoke  by  the  insides.  "  What  a  splendid  team  you  have 
got  here,  Inkleton,"  said  the  Captain,  as  they  threw 
themselves  into  their  collars,  in  ascending  the  hill  out  of 
Egham,  appearing  to  regard  the  weight  of  the  carriage 
and  its  contents  as  nothing  more  than  was  just  necessary 
to  the  full  development  of  their  great  powers  and  form.  In 
fact,  on  the  flat  between  the  two  towns,  it  was  as  much 
as  Sir  John  could  do  to  restrain  their  ardour,  so  redun- 
dant did  they  feel  themselves  of  high  keep  and  mettle. 

"  They  ought  to  be  good,"  replied  the  Baronet ;  "  those 
leaders  cost  me  two  hundred  guineas  apiece,  and  the 
wheelers  more  than  two-thirds  of  the  sum.  There  will  be 
nothing  on  the  road  to-day  that  can  touch  them,  if  they 
would  settle  down  to  the  trot,  but,  from  the  effect  of  the 
excitement  of  a  race-course,  so  new  to  them,  there  is  little 
chance  of  their  doing  so.  All  I  can  hope  for,  is,  that 
they  will  not  break  away  with  me,  on  our  return  from  the 
ground  ;  but  I  have  little  fear  of  it,  as  my  tackle  is  good." 

On  entering  Windsor  great  park— one  of  the  grandest 
the  world  can  show — the  conversation  was  resumed  about 
Eton,  whose  "  antique  towers "  were  now  visible  to  the 
party  ;  and  to  those  who  had  been  educated  there,  some 
old  associations  presented  themselves. 

"  Yonder  is  the  old  shop,"  said  the  Baronet  to  Hargrave. 

"  Yes,"  replied  Hargrave,  "  and  I  never  wish  to  be 
nearer  to  it  than  I  now  am." 

"  Nor  I  neither,"  observed  Frank  Kaby. 

"I  have  no  great  fancy  for  the  place  myself,"  added 
the  Baronet,  "  but  I  should  like  to  see  old  Stevens  and 
Jack  Hall  once  more." 

"By-the-by,"  resumed  Hargrave,  "did  you  hear  of  the 
good  bit  of  luck  Jack  Hall  dropped  into  the  other  day  ? " 

On  the  Baronet  replying  in  the  negative,  Hargrave  thus 
related  the  story  : — 


THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN        123 

"When  Hobart  left  school,  at  Christmas,  the  doctor 
and  his  tutor,  from  a  knowledge  of  the  large  possessions 
that  awaited  him  on  his  majority,  of  course  expected  a 
very  handsome  pouch  ;  and  it  is  not  improbable  that  the 
amount  had  been  duly  communicated  to,  and  approved 
of  by,  the  latter.  Whether  the  doctor  was  popular  with 
Hobart,  is  extremely  problematical ;  but  that  a  certain 
person,  named  Jack  Hall,  was  highly  so,  there  was  no 
room  to  doubt.  The  money  for  the  pouch,  then,  arrived 
in  a  letter  to  Hobart  himself,  the  distribution  of  which 
involved  him  in  no  small  difficulty.  The  result,  how- 
ever, was  this  : — On  the  one  hand,  the  chief  educational 
assistance  he  had  received  from  the  doctor  consisted  of 
manifold  unmerciful  floggings,  and  without  being  much 
the  better  for  them  ;  whereas,  on  the  other,  through  the 
affectionate  assiduities  of  Jack  Hall,  he  had  been  rendered 
a  match  for  any  man  on  the  Thames,  in  the  use  of  a 
casting-net,  or  the  management  of  a  boat  or  a  punt  ;  and 
could  heel  and  handle  a  cock  with  all  the  dexterity  of 
a  professor.  In  point  of  fact,  it  was  a  simple  case  of 
flogging  versus  cock-fighting,  net-casting,  and  boating. 
Taking  into  consideration,  then,  the  '  value  received ' 
from  either  party,  and,  after  the  most  mature  deliberation, 
Hobart  decided  that  the  money  ought  to  be  divided  in 
equal  portions  between  the  three — the  doctor,  the  j^rivate 
tutor,  and  the  professor  of  arts  and  sciences,  which  Jack 
Hall  must  be  allowed  to  be.  And  now  for  the  finale. 
This  upright  division  of  the  money  would  never  have 
been  known  to  the  family  had  they  not  chanced  to  have 
been  made  acquainted  with  it  through  an  unlooked-for 
channel,  when  all  was  put  straight  between  the  parties. 
The  deficiency  to  the  pedagogues  was  rectified,  as  it 
ought  to  have  been  ;  but  Jack  retained  his  share,  on  the 
well-known  principle  of  his  profession — that  all  was  fish 
which  came  into  his  net.  The  former — the  pedagogues — 
returned  suitable  acknowledgments  for  all  favours.  The 
doctor  presented  Hobart  with  a  splendidly  bound  edition 
of  the  moral  Lucretius  ;  and  Jack  Hall  invited  him,  with 
his  friends,  to  a  flasli  dinner  '  uj^  town.' " 

"  Capital  1  "  exclaimed  the  Captain  ;  "  we  had  none 
of  that  work  at  Harrow ;  but  I  think,  from  my  experience 
of  them,  most  schoolmasters  would  get  monkey's  allow- 
ance if  left  to  the  generosity  of  their  pupils  alone  to 
reward  them,  although  I  do  not  see  why  they  should  ;  as 


124        THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN 

after  all,  they  only  do  their  duty  towards  them,  although 
many  of  them  are,  like  young  coachmen,  too  fond  of  the 
whip.  As  for  myself,  I  had  rather  be  a  horse-keeper  to 
the  Holyhead  mail  than  a  schoolmaster ;  and  does  not 
somebody  say,  '  Quern  Jupiter  odit  pedagogum  facit  ? ' 
But,  Inkleton,  when  speaking  of  Oxford,  and  the  fun 
you  had  there  in  our  time,  you  appear  to  have  forgotten 
Jem  Howell,  and  the  '  Birmingham  Day,'  one  of  the  best 
of  his  order,  out  of  the  University,  and  Costar's  favourite 
servant." 

"  Forget  Jem  Howell  !  "  exclaimed  the  Baronet ;  "  you 
might  as  well  suppose  I  should  forget  to  eat  my  dinner 
to-day  at  the  'Bush.'  I  consider  Jem  quite  a  pattern- 
card  of  a  stage-coachman,  both  in  figure  and  dress  ;  and 
he  appears  as  if  he  were  made  on  purpose  to  meet  a 
north-east  wind,  with  the  thermometer  at  zero,  over  those 
Oxfordshire  hills.  Then,  wdiat  a  voice  he  has  ! — what  an 
eye  ! — in  fact,  what  an  expressive  countenance  through- 
out, under  that  broad-brimmed  hat  !  " 

"  That  was  not  much  amiss  of  Jem,  the  other  day,"  said 
Hargrave,  "  respecting  the  new  Bishop  of  Oxford.  '  I  wish 
they'd  gin  (given)  it  Oolhj,^  said  Jem  (the  gentleman's 
name  was  TFooUey)  ;  '  he'd  have  made  a  rare  bishop,  for 
he's  not  only  a  scholard,  but  a  gemman,  and  that's  more 
than  can  be  said  of  all  on  'em.  They  tells  me  scholard- 
ship  opens  men's  minds  ;  it  may  be  so,  but  it  shuts  their 
purses  devilish  close — at  least  I  find  it  so  on  this  road. 
I  never  remember  getting  more  than  one  shilling  from 
a  passenger  in  black,  in  a  shovel  hat,  but  once  since  I 
have  drove  this  coach.'  But  it  is  Jem's  very  dry  manner 
of  expressing  himself,"  resumed  Hargrave,  "that  gives 
a  zest  to  these  trifling  stories  ;  in  fact,  they  would  not 
be  worth  repeating  without  it.  I  saw  an  old  woman  go 
up  to  him,  the  other  morning,  in  Oxford,  and  say  to  him, 

*  Be  you  a-going  to  Brummagem  to-day.  Master  Howell  ? ' 

*  Xo,  ma'am,'  replied  Jem  ;  '  but  I  shall  go  half-way  there, 
and  my  fellow-servant  will  take  you  the  other  half  if 
you  w^ant  to  go  there  ;  but  mind  ye,  ma'am  (looking  up- 
wards towards  the  sky),  if  it  don't  rain.^  '  And  will  it  rain, 
Master  Howell  ? '  asked  the  silly  old  woman.  '  There  is 
only  one  person  in  the  world,  ma'am,  that  can  answer 
that  question,'  replied  Jem,  '  and  I  ar'n't  he.'  "  ^ 

1  This  anecdote  can  only  be  appreciated  by  those  who  are  aware 
of  the  troublesome,  stupid  questions  put  bj^  the  travelling  public  to 


THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN        125 

"  He  booked  liis  passenger,  I  conclude,"  observed  Frank 
Raby. 

"  Of  course  he  did,"  resumed  Hargrave  ;  "  for  Jem  never 
throws  a  chance  away  ;  and  I  saw  a  good  scene  with  him, 
in  that  respect,  last  term.  It  being  a  very  wet  morning, 
a  passenger  put  his  head  out  of  one  of  the  windows  of  the 
'  Angel  Inn,'  and  said,  '  Where  is  the  coachman  of  the 
Birmingham  Day  ? ' 

" '  I  be  here,  at  your  sarvice,  sir,'  answered  Jem,  who 
was  buckling  his  reins,  at  the  moment,  just  ready  to 
mount  his  box  and  be  off. 

"  '  Put  some  straw  on  the  foot-board,  on  my  side  of  the 
box,'  resumed  the  gentleman. 

" '  Beg  pardon,  sir,'  continued  Jem  ;  '  but  I  never 
allows  no  straw  on  my  foot-board.' 

" '  You  are  an  insolent  scoundrel ! '  exclaimed  the 
gentleman. 

" '  This,  sir,  is  not  the  first  time  I  have  been  told  so,' 
resumed  Jem  ;  '  but  the  fact  is,  I  have  a  mare  at  wheel, 
in  this  here  coach,  that,  if  one  single  straw  touched  her 
tail,  would  kick  you  off  the  box  in  about  two  seconds  ; 
and  here  is  my  master,  who  will  vouch  for  the  truth  of 
what  I  have  been  saying.' " 

To  attempt  to  detail  the  events  of  a  race  meeting,  so 
far  back  as  the  one  to  which  I  am  now  alluding,  would 
be  considered  a  trespass  on  the  reader ;  sulfice  it  to  say, 
that  all  went  off  with  eclat,  as  far  as  the  sport  on  the 
course  was  concerned  ;  and  as  the  champagne  of  the  week 

road-coachmen.  This  womau  knew  Howell  drove  the  Oxford  and 
Birmingham  day  coach  six  days  in  the  week,  as  well  as  he  himself 
did  ;  so  that  the  question  was  put  merely  for  the  sake  of  asking 
it,  as  many  others  are.  Howell's  questions,  on  the  other  hand, 
were  always  to  the  point ;  and  that  put  to  his  master,  Mr.  Costar^ 
relating  to  the  coach  he  had  so  long  been  driving,  is  a  fair  sample  : 
— "  Do  you  think,  sir,  my  coach  tvouldbe  missed  on  the  road  if  it  did, 
not  start  to-day  1 "  Mr.  Costar  agreed  with  Jem  in  thinking  it 
would  not ;  and  it  stopped.  The  fact  was,  the  coaches  running 
throughout,  from  London  to  Birmingham,  in  a  day  took  most  of 
its  passengers.  It  is  much  to  be  lamented  that  there  is  no  portrait 
of  this  excellent  servant,  and  true  specimen  of  the  old  road-coach- 
man, an  order  of  men  soon  only  to  be  known  to  have  existed.  He 
died  worth  £10,000,  and  as  one  proof  of  the  estimation  in  which 
his  character  as  a  confidential  and  honest  servant  was  held,  Mr. 
Ansley,  of  Bletchington  Park,  kept  a  horse  in  Oxford  for  his  use 
in  the  summer  ;  and  a  knife  and  fork  were  always  at  his  service  in 
the  steward's  room  at  Bletchington,  on  Sundays,  the  year  round. 


126        THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN 

was  paid  for  by  the  warm  old  gentleman  inside,  all  went 
on  well  with  the  drag.  The  party  arrived  each  night  at 
Stevens's  Hotel  as  the  clock  struck  eleven,  so  exactly  did  the 
Baronet  keep  his  time ;  and  both  men  and  horses  appeared 
the  better  for  their  four  days  of  inhaling  clear  country  air. 

But  what  impression  did  the  events  of  the  week  make 
upon  the  youngsters  of  this  party — Frank  Baby  and  Har- 
grave  ?  Upon  the  latter,  not  much.  His  heart  and  soul 
were  wrapped  up  in  fox-hunting,  and  "  closely  stopped," 
as  fox  -  hunters  say,  against  the  intrusion  of  meaner 
pursuits,  amongst  which  he  reckoned  racing.  Not  so, 
however,  with  our  hero.  He  appeared  to  enter  into  the 
spirit  of  each  individual  race  with  an  interest  that 
attracted  notice  ;  and,  on  the  third  day,  was  seen  taking 
some  bets  in  the  ring,  although  only  to  a  trifling  amount ; 
and  most  of  these,  as  might  be  expected,  he  lost.  But  his 
speculations  did  not  end  with  the  turf.  The  introduction 
of  the  thimble-rig  tables  had  just  then  commenced,  and 
Hargrave  and  himself  were  amongst  the  earliest  victims 
to  their  unfairness. 

"  What !  "  said  one  to  the  other,  "  can  that  simple- 
looking  country  bumpkin,  in  a  smock-frock,  find  out  the 
pea,  and  neither  you  nor  I  be  able  to  do  the  same  ? 
Why,  he  has  won  seven  guineas  already  from  the  rascals, 
and  how  I  should  like  to  break  them,  for  they  look  very 
much  like  thieves." 

"  There  will  be  no  difficulty  in  it,"  observed  the  other ;  "  I 
see  the  pea  every  time,  and  I  am  quite  sure  I  can  always 
tell  the  thimble  it  is  under.  We  will  risk  five  guineas 
apiece,  and  I'll  warrant  it  we'll  soon  double  our  stakes." 

But  they  were  interrupted  in  their  course  by  a  bystander, 
who  overheard  them,  and  who,  apparently  in  compassion 
to  their  simplicity,  thus  ventured  to  address  them  : 

"Excuse  me,  young  gentlemen,"  said  he,  "but  you  have 
formed  a  wrong  judgment  as  to  the  proceedings  you 
have  just  been  witness  of.  That  simple-looking  country 
bumpkin,  in  the  smock-frock,  is  one  of  the  partners  in 
the  table,  as  well  as  one  of  the  greatest  thieves  in  London. 
He  is  acting  the  part  of  a  decoy,  and  you  will  be  sure  to 
fall  into  his  net,  if  you  risk  your  money  on  the  tables." 

The  youngsters  thanked  their  unknown  friend,  and 
kept  their  money  in  their  pockets.  He  also  cautioned 
them  against  playing  at  the  various  Rouge  et  Noir  and 
E.  0.  tables  on  the  course,  assuring  them  they  were  all 


THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN        127 

unfair,  and  that  they  would  not  have  a  chance  to  win  at 
them.  It  was  discovered,  afterwards,  that  it  was  one  of 
the  police  officers  of  Bow  Street  who  had  acted  this 
friendly  part,  having  seen  the  young  gentlemen  come  on 
to  the  course  with  Sir  Johii  Inkleton,  to  whom  he  owed  a 
debt  of  gratitude,  for  a  kind  act  done  by  him,  in  getting 
him  put  on  the  establishment,  through  the  intercession  of 
one  of  his  relations. 

During  the  four  days  of  the  meeting,  Frank  Kaby  and 
his  host  never  chanced  to  meet.  When  the  one  came 
home  at  night,  the  other  had  not  returned  from  his  club 
— for  he  was  a  member  of  both  Brooks's  and  White's — and 
when  the  nephew  started  for  Ascot  in  the  morning,  the 
uncle  was  asleep  in  his  bed.  The  first  time,  however,  that 
they  met,  which  was  on  the  fifth  morning,  at  the  breakfast- 
table,  the  following  conversation  occurred  : — 

"  Well,  Frank,"  said  Mr.  Raby,  "  I  hope  you  have  enjoyed 
yourself  at  Ascot." 

"Very  much  indeed,"  was  his  reply.  "Sir  John  did 
the  thing  capitally." 

"  Sir  John  did  the  thing  I  "  repeated  the  uncle.  "  What 
do  you  mean  by  that  ^  I  thought  your  object  was  to  see 
the  entire  proceedings  of  an  Ascot  race  meeting,  which, 
I  have  reason  to  believe,  is  the  pleasaijtest  and  most 
aristocratic  in  the  world.  But  you  seem  to  bestow 
all  the  credit  on  Inkleton,  who  certainly  is  a  very " 

"  I  only  meant  to  say,"  interrupted  Frank,  "  that  Sir 
John  did  the  thing  in  the  most  coachman-like  style,  and 
his  turn-out  was  uncommonly  admired  on  the  road.  The 
fine  coachmanship,  also,  which  he  exhibited,  in  twisting 
his  horses  right  and  left,  and  threading  the  carriages  as 
he  did,  at  the  rate  of  eight  or  ten  miles  in  the  hour,  and 
never  touching  one  of  them  !  And  then  the  coachman-like 
manner  in  which  everything  was  done ;  the  changing 
of  the  horses,  and  the  scientific  way  in  which  they  were 
put  to  the  coach." 

"  Scientific !  "  smiled  the  uncle  ;  "  ridiculous,  to  be 
sure  ;  but  really,  Frank,  it  is  somewhat  of  a  melancholy 
reflection,  that,  after  all  the  money  expended  on  Inkleton's 
education,  and  with  really  good  parts,  which  he  has,  he 
should  now  pride  himself  upon  nothing  so  much  as  being 
a  first-rate  coachman.  Surely  he  did  not  imbibe  such 
ambition  from  reading  the  classics." 

"  Perhaps  not,  sir,"  said  our  hero,  a  little  petulantly, 


128        THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN 

standing  up  for  his  patron  and  friend.  "  But  please  to 
recollect,  uncle,  that  one  of  the  best  of  them  advises  us, 
with  his  own  usual  good  taste,  not  to  condemn  the  taste 
of  others  any  more  than  to  extol  that  of  ourselves.  '  Nee 
tua  laudahis  studia,  nee  aliena  rejjrendes ; '  and,  moreover, 
if  the  Athenians,  the  most  polished  nation  of  all  antiquity, 
deemed  it  an  honour  to  be  considered  skilful  charioteers, 
why  should  Englishmen  consider  it  a  disgrace  ?  Again  ; 
— have  not  their  poets  divided  the  honour  of  the 
charioteer  with  the  hero  who  fights  in  the  chariot  ? 
Does  not  Homer  make  his  Nestor  the  wisest  man,  and 
the  best  coachman  of  his  day  ?  Does  he  not  make  Priam  put 
his  own  horses,  with  his  own  hands,  to  the  car  in  which 
liimself  and  the  herald  demand  the  body  of  Hector  ?  Is  he 
not,  indeed,  blamed  by  one  of  his  commentators  for  dwell- 
ing upon  the  description  of  Juno's  chariot,  when  his  reader 
expects  him  to  lead  him  into  tlie  thick  of  the  battle  ? 

'  For  why  should  Homer  deck  the  gorgeous  car, 
When  our  raised  souls  are  anxious  for  the  war? 
Or  dwell  on  every  wheel,  when  loud  alarms, 
And  Mars,  in  thunder,  calls  the  host  to  arms  ? ' 

And  is  he  not  so  minutely  faithful  to  this  part  of  his 
subject,  that,  at  the  games  of  Patroclus,  he  represents 
Menelaus  borrowing  one  of  the  horses  of  Agamemnon — a 
horse  called  iEthe  (here  the  uncle  smiled,  as  much  as  to 
say,  I  wish  your  recollection  was  as  good  on  all  j^oints, 
as  upon  this) — to  put  to  his  chariot  with  his  own,  on 
account  of  his  superior  action,  no  doubt?  Has  not  the 
greatest  poet  that  ever  dipped  pen  in  ink,  immortalized 
the  coachman  in  song — ay,  even  in  letters  of  pure  gold  ? 
Turning,  then,  to  the  Romans  ;  can  anything  be  finer  than 
Juvenal's  description,  in  his  eleventh  satire,  of  the  excite- 
ment created  in  Rome  l^y  the  various  chariot  races  at  the 
Circensian  games,  which  passage  has  been  so  admirably 
translated  by  Congreve  : — 

'  Tills  day,  all  Rome  (if  I  may  be  allowed. 
Without  offence  to  such  a  numerous  crowd, 
To  say  "all  Rome")  will  in  the  circus  sweat: 
Echoes  already  to  their  shouts  repeat ; 
Methinks  I  hear  the  cvy—Axoay !  moay ! 
The  green  has  won  the  honour  of  the  day. 
Oh  !  should  the  sports  be  for  one  year  forborne, 
Rome  would,  in  tears,  her  loved  diversion  mourn  ; 
And  that  would  now  a  cause  of  sorrow  yield, 
Great  as  the  loss  of  Cannre's  fatal  field.' 


THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN        129 

Did  not  Lateranus,  the  consul,  drive  his  own  chariot  by 
night,  and,  when  the  year  of  his  otfice  was  out,  publicly 
in  the  streets  of  Rome,  by  day  1 

"But  really,  uncle,  joking  apart — for  I  have  seen  you 
smile  at  my  panegyric  on  ancient  coachmen — I  think  you 
must  admit  that  the  fashion  for  gentlemen  driving  their 
own  coaches,  which  is  now  becoming  so  prevalent,  will,  in 
time,  do  much  good.  It  has  caused  them  to  notice  and 
take  under  their  protection,  public,  or  '  road  coachmen,'  as 
they  are  called,  a  most  useful  body  of  men,  and  '  scientific ' 
in  their  calling — you  may  smile  at  the  epithet,  and  yet  it 
is  their  due — who  will  be  much  the  better  for  coming  more 
in  collision  with  their  superiors,  and  receiving,  whilst 
imparting,  instruction.  It  is  quite  evident,  and  I  have 
heard  not  only  my  father,  but  Dr.  Chapman  and  Mr. 
Egerton  say,  the  coachmen  on  our  road  are  wonderfully 
improved  since  Sir  John  and  the  Hon.  Mr.  ConoUy  have 
been  so  much  at  work  amongst  them  with  their  own 
teams.  The  latter,  indeed,  has  put  together  and  published 
a  few  general  maxims,  not  only  relating  to  their  situation 
and  practice,  as  coachmen,  but  to  their  conduct  as  men ; 
and  they  will,  no  doubt,  be  the  means  of  saving  the  lives 
of  many  persons,  who  travel  in  the  course  of  the  year. 
Now,  if  he  were  not  himself  a  coachman,  he  could  not 
have  done  this,  at  least,  with  any  effect." 

"  Certainly  not,  I  admit,"  replied  Mr.  Raby,  "  any  more 
than  ^Eschylus  could  have  celebrated  the  triumphs  of  his 
country  on  the  stage,  so  perfectly  as  he  has  done,  had  he 
not  fought  and  bled  on  the  plains  of  Marathon ;  for  I 
suppose  I  must  be  classical  here  as  well  as  yourself.  But 
tell  me,  Frank,  do  you  mean  to  be  an  amateur  coachman, 
as  well  as  a  fox-hunter  ? " 

"  I  should  like  it,"  answered  Frank,  "  if  my  means 
allowed  me,  but  not  else  ;  for  we  should  pay  too  dear  for 
any  pleasure,  I  should  think,  if  it  brings  us  into  pecuniary 
difficulties." 

"  Good,  my  dear  Frank,"  resumed  the  uncle  ;  "  these 
are  honeyed  words  of  yours  to  my  ears." 

"Why,  you  know,  uncle,  coaching  can  be  enjoyed  for 
six  months  in  the  year,  in  which  there  is  no  hunting ; 
and  I  should  like  never  to  be  quite  idle,  if  I  could  help 
it.  I  think  lounging  away  one's  time,  at  a  watering- 
place,  in  the  summer,  must  be  poor  fun  for  a  young  man  ; 
besides,  the  having  a  team  of  one's  own  affords  oppor- 


I30       THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN 

tunities  of  dispensing  much  pleasure  amongst  our  friends 
and  acquaintances." 

"And  what  think  you  of  racing,  now  you  have  seen  it 
in  perfection  ? "  asked  the  uncle,  with  some  expression  of 
anxiety  on  his  countenance. 

"  I  like  racing  much,"  replied  Frank  ;  "  as  Mr.  Egerton 
says,  '  it  is  a  stimulus,  acting  on  the  generous  ambition 
of  men  and  horses,  and,  as  regards  the  latter,  most 
serviceable  to  the  country,  but  only  a  fit  pursuit  for 
persons  of  large  means  ; '  consequently  it  will  be  out  of 
my  power  to  indulge  myself  in  it.  As  an  object  of  gain, 
I  think  very  lightly  of  it ;  I  have  been  told  there  is  no 
instance  on  record  of  a  gentleman  getting  money  by  it,  on 
the  long-run  ;  and  we  have  one  instance  to  the  contrary, 
at  this  time,  at  Christchnrch  ;  at  least,  there  is  a  very 
good  fellow,  by  the  name  of  Fairfax,  who  says  he  shall  be 
£100,000  a  worse  man  for  his  father  having  been  all  his 
life  on  the  turf." 

Mr.  Raby  looked  serious  at  the  conclusion  of  these 
remarks  ;  but  there  was  something  in  the  expression  of 
his  features  which  implied  dissatisfaction,  if  not  disgust, 
at  the  idea  of  a  young  man,  who  had  gone  through  Eton 
school,  laying  his  account  in  driving  four  horses  on  a 
turnpike  road — in  which  the  most  ignorant  fellow  in 
the  country  might  excel  him — as  a  means  of  employment 
in  after-life  ;  or,  to  use  his  nephew's  words,  to  prevent  his 
lounging  away  his  time  in  idleness  at  some  watering-place 
in  the  summer.  He  remained  silent,  however,  perhaps 
from  the  recollection  of  the  little  use  he  himself  had  made 
of  a  tirst-rate  education,  and  of  first-rate  talents  as  well. 

The  arrival  of  the  postman  with  some  letters  put  an 
end  to  the  conversation.  One  of  them  was  from  Mr. 
Raby  to  his  brother,  who  read  the  following  extract  from 
it  to  his  nephew  : — "  Frank  has  informed  me  of  the 
pleasant  manner  in  which  he  has  passed  his  time  in 
London,  Ascot,  &c.  ;  and  likewise  of  the  high  treat  you 
afforded  him,  by  asking  those  Leicestershire  sportsmen 
to  meet  him  at  dinner.  As  for  Ascot,  the  less  practical 
information  he  brings  with  him  from  thence,  the  better, 
for  it  is  not  my  wish  that  he  should  attain  a  relish  for 
the  turf  ;  but,  as  he  is  bent  on  being  a  fox-hunter,  I  am 
glad  you  have  exhibited  to  him,  in  the  persons  of  your 
Melton  friends,  some  of  the  best  specimens  of  that  class 
of  men.     I  knew  Mountford's  father  well,  and  there  was 


THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN        131 

no  better  man  ;  and  I  hear  an  excellent  account  of  Lord 
Edmonston,  from  an  old  friend  of  his  mother,  who  visited 
me  lately.  Of  Raymond  I  know  nothing  but  from  what 
I  see  of  him  in  the  newspapers,  as  the  owner  of  a  good 
stud  of  race-horses,  and  a  successful  gentleman  jockey  at 
Bibury  and  other  places.  His  being  an  acquaintance  of 
yours,  however,  is  a  guarantee  for  everything  that  is 
correct ;  for  there  must  be  something  in  a  man  beyond 
being  a  mere  sportsman,  to  give  him  access  to  your  table. 
These  are  the  sort  of  men,  then,  that  I  wish  Frank  to  be 
acquainted  with  ;  and  as  I  hear  very  good  accounts  of 
him,  it  is  not  improbable  that  he  may,  one  of  these  days, 
know  a  little  more  of  them,  by  accepting  Somerby's 
invitation  to  spend  a  month  at  Melton  Mowbray,  and  see 
'the  cream  of  the  thing'  with  foxhounds,  under  the 
direction  of  the  famous  Meynell,  which,  I  flatter  myself, 
he  has  seen  with  harehounds,  under  the  management  of 
your  humble  servant.  You  must  be  aware  that  the 
expenses  of  a  trip  of  this  sort  would  be  considerable,  and, 
under  general  circumstances,  somewhat  unjustifiable,  as 
regards  a  younger  brother  ;  but  you  must  also  be  aware 
that,  beyond  the  expenses  of  his  education,  and  the 
purchase  of  a  few  books,  Andrew  costs  me  nothing.  His 
pony  is  all  that  he  requires  ;  and  his  sister  tells  me  he 
must  be  saving  money  out  of  his  annual  allowance.  Now, 
as  our  grandfather  and  father  were  both  sportsmen,  and 
I  have  myself  some  pretensions  to  the  appellation,  I 
should  wish  Frank  to  become  one,  and  be  somewhat 
conspicuous  as  such,  for  which  I  think  he  is  qualified. 
As  for  his  passion  for  driving  coaches,  that  will  most 
likely  wear  away  ;  he  imbibed  it  from  Inkleton,  who  is 
an  excellent  person  withal,  and  certainly  has  done  much 
good  in  his  neighbourhood,  in  liberalizing — at  all  events, 
humanizing — a  set  of  men,  I  mean  coachmen  and  guards, 
by  coming  so  much  into  collision  with  them  on  their  own 
ground.  It  seems  the  '  passion  for  the  ribbons,'  as  it  is 
called,  is  very  much  gaining  ground  ;  that  it  is  encouraged 
by  the  Prince  ;  that  his  friend  Sir  John  Lade  has,  at  this 
time,  seventeen  chestnut  coach-horses,  with  whole  legs,  in 
his  stable  !  and  that  a  regular  driving  club  is  in  agitation, 
patronised  by  John  Warde,  Prouse,  Oakover,  Bamfylde, 
and  some  others,  who  are  great  patrons  of  the  road. 
Prouse,  I  hear,  has  already  composed  a  song  for  the 
occasion,  in  which  every  individual  coachman,  guard,  and 


132        THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN 

horsekeeper,  between  London  and  Exeter,  is  introduced  by 
name  and  character.  I  fancy  I  see  you  smile  ;  neither  can 
I  avoid  doing  so  myself  at  the  recollection  of  such  absur- 
dity ;  but  there  is  no  harm  in  it,  after  all ;  au  contraire, 
they  say,  good  will  be  the  result.     If  so,  floreat  Auriga." 

*'  Well,  Frank,"  observed  the  uncle,  "  I  know  not 
whether  I  am  not  myself  of  the  same  opinion  with  your 
father.  We  have  to  thank  an  amateur  of  '  the  ribbons,' 
as  you  call  amateur  coachmen,  for  the  present  improved 
mode  of  conveying  our  mails.  I  allude  to  Mr.  Palmer, 
who  suggested  that  they  should  be  carried  by  coaches, 
drawn  by  four  horses,  contracted  for  by  Government,  and 
guarded,  instead  of  in  the  old  mode  by  a  boy  on  horse- 
back ;  and  his  plan  was  carried  into  effect  in  1784.  He 
assured  ministers  that  Government  would  be  put  to  a 
very  little  additional  expense,  inasmuch  as  the  coach 
proprietors  would  have  a  strong  inducement  to  contract 
for  conveying  the  mails  at  a  cheap  rate,  on  account  of 
the  additional  recommendation  to  passengers  their  coaches 
would  thereby  acquire,  in  point  of  security,  regularity, 
and  despatch.  Strange  to  say,  however,  although  Govern- 
ment ajDproved  of  this  plan,  and  the  public  in  general 
were  satisfied  of  its  utility,  yet,  like  all  new  schemes, 
however  beneficial  they  may  promise  to  be,  it  met  with  a 
strong  opposition  in  some  quarters.  It  was  represented 
by  a  number  of  the  oldest  and  ablest  officers  and  clerks 
in  the  post-office,  not  only  as  impracticable,  but  dangerous. 
Notwithstanding  this  opposition,  powerful  as  we  may 
suppose  it  to  have  been,  it  was  at  length  established,  and 
gradually  extended  to  different  parts  of  the  kingdom, 
chiefly  by  the  exertions  of  country  gentlemen,  who  took 
an  interest  in  the  coaches  which  were  running  on  the 
various  roads  in  their  neighbourhood.  It  soon  appeared 
that  not  only  was  the  revenue  improved  by  the  intro- 
duction of  this  system,  but  that  a  prodigious  saving  of 
time  M^as  the  effect  of  it.  For  example  :  previously  to 
the  extension  of  it  to  Scotland,  the  mails  were  eighty -two 
hours  on  the  road  from  London  to  Edinburgh,  and  eighty- 
five  from  Edinburgh  to  London  ;  and,  subsequently,  the 
time  has  been  shortened  to  sixty-two  in  each  case."  ^ 

"  I  am  happy  to  hear  this  account  from  you,"  observed 
the  nephew,  "  and  I  will  retail  it  to  Sir  John  when  I  see 
him  ;  but  will  you  have  the  kindness  to  inform  me  when 
1  It  has  since  been  reduced  to  forty-four  hours. 


THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN        133 

the  conveyance  of  letters  by  post,  as  the  term  is,  com- 
menced in  the  world?  I  have  often  heard  the  subject 
discussed,  but  never  satisfactorily  so." 

"You  have  imposed  a  task  upon  me,"  answered  the 
uncle,  "  that  I  scarcely  know  how  to  perform  ;  but  I 
imagine  the  case  to  have  been  something  like  this  : — 

"In  the  early  periods  of  society,  communication  between 
the  different  parts  of  a  country  must  always  be  rare  and 
difficult  ;  individuals,  at  a  distance,  had  little  occasion  for 
mutual  intercourse  ;  and,  when  such  communication  was 
found  necessary,  special  messengers  were  employed.  As 
order  and  civilization  advanced,  occasions  for  correspon- 
dence multiplied.  The  sovereign,  for  instance,  found  it 
requisite  to  transmit  orders  and  laws  to  every  part  of  his 
kingdom  ;  and  for  this  purpose  he  made  use  of  messengers 
or  '  couriers,'  as  they  are  now  called,  to  whom  he 
committed  the  charge  of  forwarding  his  despatches.  But, 
without  stations  in  the  way,  where  could  these  messengers 
find  refreshment  for  either  themselves  or  their  horses  ? 
Experience  soon  pointed  out  the  necessity  of  ensuring 
such  accommodations,  by  erecting,  upon  all  the  great  roads, 
houses,  or  stations,  where  the  messengers  might  stop,  as 
occasion  required,  and  where,  for  their  still  greater 
convenience,  relays  of  horses  were  kept  in  readiness,  to 
enable  them  to  jjursue  their  journey  with  uninterrupted 
despatch.  Thus,  these  houses  were  called  posts,  and  the 
messenger  who  made  use  of  them  was  dignified  by  the 
appellation  of  a  post.  Though,  at  first,  the  institution  was, 
no  doubt,  intended  solely  for  the  use  of  the  sovereign  and 
the  necessities  of  the  state,  yet,  by  degrees,  individuals, 
seeing  the  benefit  resulting  from  it,  availed  themselves 
of  the  opportunity  to  carry  on  their  own  correspondence, 
and  for  which  they  willingly  paid  a  certain  rate  to  the 
sovereign.  Thus  a  post-office,  of  some  kind  or  other, 
gradually  came  to  be  established  in  every  civilized  country, 
although  we  find  Cicero  lamenting  the  absence  of  one  in 
Italy,  in  his  time.  Still  they  can  be  traced,  I  believe,  as 
far  back  as  the  ancient  Persians.  Xenophon,  indeed,  tells 
us  they  were  invented  by  Cyrus,  on  his  Scythian  ex- 
pedition, about  500  years  before  Christ ;  that  the  station- 
houses  were  sumptuously  built,  with  accommodations 
for  many  men  and  horses  ;  and  that  every  courier,  on  his 
arrival,  was  obliged  to  communicate  his  despatches  to  the 
post- master,  by  whom  they  were  immediately  forwarded 


134        THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN 

again.  Herodotus  mentions  the  singular  fact  that,  from 
the  shore  of  the  jEgean  Sea  to  Susa  the  capital,  there  were 
111  stages  for  posts,  each  a  day's  journey  distant  from  the 
preceding, 

"  It  does  not,  I  believe,  clearly  appear,"  continued  Mr. 
Kaby,  "  in  what  manner,  or  when,  posts  were  established 
among  the  ancient  Greeks  ;  and,  although  they  are  known 
to  have  existed  among  the  ancient  Romans,  it  is  difficult 
to  trace  the  period  of  their  introduction  among  either. 
Suetonius,  however,  assures  us  that  Augustus  instituted 
posts  along  all  the  great  roads  of  the  empire  ;  and  it  is 
also  asserted  that  they  were  known  in  the  days  of  the 
republic,  when  posts,  and  post-stations,  called  statores  and 
stationes,  were  established  by  the  senate.  The  epistolary 
correspondence  of  antiquity,  however,  was  probably  at 
no  period  so  extensive  as  to  require  or  maintain  post- 
offices  on  the  footing  of  modern  posts  for  the  mere  con- 
veyance of  letters.  It  is  in  later  times  only,  when  the 
extension  of  commerce  gave  occasion  to  frequent  com- 
munication, that  those  establishments  are  to  be  found 
complete.  The  institution  of  them  in  modern  history 
appears  to  be  in  the  year  807,  by  the  Emperor  Charlemagne, 
but  we  hear  little  of  their  being  regularly  established  in 
England  until  the  time  of  James  the  First.  In  the  time 
of  Charles  the  First,  rates  of  postage  were  fixed  ;  and  it 
is  rather  a  curious  fact,  that  the  allowance  to  postmasters 
on  the  road,  for  horses  employed  in  these  posts,  was  fixed 
at  twopence-halfpenny  per  mile  ;  which  is,  I  believe,  the 
exact  sum  now  paid  to  the  proprietors  of  our  mail  coaches 
for  conveying  the  letter-bags.  These  posts,  however, 
extended  then  only  to  a  few  of  the  principal  roads." 

"  And  can  you  tell  me  when  travelling  by  the  use  of 
post-horses  commenced,"  asked  Frank,  "  for  I  lately  heard 
a  dissertation  on  that  subject,  which  came  to  no  satis- 
factory conclusion  1 " 

"  At  what  period  the  public  of  any  country  commenced 
travelling  post,  as  the  term  is,  is  difficult  now  to  decide. 
Post-horses  are  mentioned  in  the  Theodosian  code  {de 
cursu  publico),  but  I  doubt  whether  any  use  could  be  made 
of  them,  except  by  persons  travelling  in  the  service  of  the 
state.  At  all  events,  I  remember  Pliny  found  himself 
compelled  to  ask  permission  of  his  government  to  avail 
himself  of  their  services  to  carry  his  sick  wife.  In  the 
year  1548,  horses  for  riding  post  were  let  out  in  England 


THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN        135 

at  a  penny  per  mile ;  but  when  posting  by  carriages 
commenced,  it  is  not  in  my  power  to  determine.  I  think 
somewhere  about  the  same  time,  although  to  a  very  limited 
extent.  It  is,  indeed,  only  within  these  last  twenty  years 
that  English  gentlemen  have  desisted  from  the  practice  of 
what  is  termed  riding  post  from  their  country  seats  to 
London,  good  hackneys  being  provided  for  themselves  and 
servants  on  the  roads." 

"  And  not  a  bad  way  of  travelling,"  observed  Frank  ; 
"  next  to  a  seat  on  a  coach-box,  behind  good  horses,  I 
should  prefer  it  to  any  other." 

"  Very  good,"  resumed  the  uncle,  "  for  gentlemen  of  a 
certain  age,  and  of  certain  personal  dimensions ;  but 
it  would  hardly  have  suited  me.  It  was  all  very  well, 
however,  for  gentlemen  to  travel  in  this  way,  because  they 
could  go  just  as  far  in  the  course  of  the  day  as  they  felt 
inclined  to  do  ;  and  no  doubt  but,  by  the  change  in  the 
action  of  the  muscles,  the  result  of  changing  the  horses, 
they  could  travel  a  long  way  without  feeling  fatigued,  if 
in  the  previous  habit  of  fast  riding.  But  there  is  one 
practice  amongst  our  noblemen  and  country  gentlemen 
which  they  carry  to  the  verge  of  cruelty.  I  allude  to 
their  making  their  servants  ride  post-horses,  after  their 
carriages,  when  they  travel  post,  and  often  to  the  extent  of 
from  200  to  300  miles,  with  very  little  intermission.  This 
is  a  system  that  ought  to  be  done  away  with,  and  no 
doubt  will  soon  be  remedied,  as  it  is  calling  too  severely 
on  the  personal  exertions  of  servants."  ^ 

"  Allow  me  to  ask  you,"  said  Frank,  "  now  that  we  are 
on  the  subject  of  the  road,  what  distance  of  ground  ought 
to  be  implied  by  the  word  mile,  for  I  have  heard  many 
disputes  on  the  subject  ?  " 

"A  dispute  on  this  subject,"  replied  Mr.  Eaby,  "is 
immediately  settled  by  a  reference  to  different  countries. 
An  English  statute  mile  is  eighty  chains,  or  1760  yards, 
that  is,  5280  feet ;  but  reckoning  in  geometrical  "Spaces 
(60,000  of  which  make  a  degree  of  the  equator),  it  stands 
thus  in  relation  to  that  of  other  European  countries  ; 
England,  1200  paces  ;  Scotland  and  Ireland,  1500  ; 
Italy,  1000 ;  Russia,  750 ;  Germany,  4000 ;  Hungary, 
6000.     Thus,  a  friend  of  mine,  travelling  in  Germany, 

1  It  is  scarcely  necessary  to  observe,  the  placing  rumbles,  or 
dickeys,  on  the  hinder  part  of  gentlemen's  carriages,  has  caused 
the  abandonment  of  this  system  of  servants  riding  post. 


136       THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN 

arrived  in  a  town,  at  the  edge  of  night,  by  a  diligence,  on 
his  road  to  visit  a  friend  ;  and  on  being  informed  that  his 
house  was  only  a  '  mile  distant,'  he  set  off  to  walk.  Guess 
his  surprise,  then,  on  finding  that  he  had  to  walk  nearly 
four  miles  of  the  measure  of  his  own  country.  There 
were  no  less  than  four  distinct  French  leagues,  varying 
from  1500  to  3000  paces  ;  neither  of  them,  I  believe, 
adopted  now.  Nevertheless,  ask  twenty  Frenchmen  what 
is  the  extent  of  a  modern  French  league  1  and  nineteen  of 
the  twenty  will  be  unable  to  tell  you.  It  is  generally 
supposed  to  be  3000  geometrical  paces,  or  three  English 
miles,  but  I  believe  the  case  to  be  this  : — twenty-five 
French  leagues  make  seventy  miles,  which  renders  the 
length  of  ground  five  miles  less,  in  that  given  number  of 
leagues,  than  if  the  leagues  were  exactly  three  English 
miles.  Then,  again,  among  the  ancient  Eomans  there 
was  the  like  confusion  respecting  this  measure  of  distance, 
commonly  called  a  mile.  It  was  generally  expressed  by  the 
words  mUle  ^assus,  a  thousand  feet;  but  the  exact  extent  of 
it  is  by  no  means  defined.  One  author  makes  it  to  consist 
of  seven  stadia ;  Plutarch,  little  short  of  eight ;  Strabo 
and  Polybius,  just  eight.  The  reason  of  this  discordance 
seems  to  be,  the  difterence  between  the  Grecian  and  the 
Roman  foot,  the  first-named  being  the  greatest.  The 
Romans,  however,  had  a  stone  ('  lapis ') — which  we  call  the 
'  mile-stone,'  at  the  end  of  each  mile,  the  number  marked 
on  it  denoting  the  distance  from  Rome.  Augustus, 
indeed,  erected  a  gilt  pillar  in  the  forum  of  that  city,  at 
which  all  the  public  roads,  or  '  ways,'  of  Italy,  dis- 
tinguished by  stones,  were  terminated  ;  and  the  same 
w^as  afterwards  done  in  the  provinces.  Hence  the 
traveller  would  find  tertius  lapis  on  one  denoting  three  ; 
centesimus  lapis,  a  hundred  miles,"  &c. 


CHAPTER    VIII 

Rural  life  in  hall  and  field  :  a  ball  and  a  wound  (consequences  alike 
common  in  love  and  war). 

THE  period  of  our  hero's  brief  visit  to  the  metropolis 
of  all  that  is  gay  and  voluptuous  having  expired,  he 
set  out  again  for  Amstead  Abbey,  where  his  arrival  was 


THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN        137 

hailed  with  joy  by  all  parties,  and  by  none  more  than 
Sam  Perren  and  the  huntsman.  But  Frank  Raby  came 
under  the  denomination  of  "  one  whom  everybody  likes," 
a  characteristic  wdiich,  indeed,  he  preserved  to  the  last 
day  of  his  life. 

Shortly  after  his  return  to  the  Abbey,  a  grand  enter- 
tainment was  given  by  a  neighbouring  Baronet — intended 
to  have  been  given  under  the  canopy  of  heaven,  in  his 
beautiful  grounds ;  but  a  shower  of  rain  making  its 
appearance — which  caused  his  lady  to  declare  she  had  a 
great  mind  to  go  and  live  in  that  country  where  no  rain 
falls — the  company  adjourned  to  the  mansion-house,  which 
had  ample  means  of  accommodating  them.  A  ball,  at 
night,  was  the  result,  and  as  it  was  the  first  at  which  our 
hero  had  appeared  since  he  had  assumed  the  manly  gown, 
he  was  an  object  of  some  interest  in  the  assembly. 

"What  a  fine  young  man  Frank  Raby  is  become  !  "  was 
the  remark  overheard  in  one  quarter. 

"  He  has  a  very  manly  appearance,  in  addition  to  his 
good  looks,"  was  whispered  in  another. 

"  How  like  a  gentleman  he  looks  I  "  in  a  third. 

"  There  appears  to  be  no  affectation  about  him,"  in  a 
fourth. 

"  God  never  made  a  coxcomb  worth  a  groat,"  muttered  a 
gouty  old  gentleman,  who  overheard  the  last  encomium ; 
"  there  never  was  a  bad  Raby  yet,  and  I  think  Frank  will 
keep  up  the  charter,  as  well  as  his  brother  Andrew." 

"  Oh  I  "  remarked  a  fair  lady,  who  had  two  daughters  in 
the  room,  "  I  think  Andrew  is  superior  of  the  two.  It  is 
true,  his  health  is  delicate,  and  requires  care,  but  he  is  a 
most  amiable  young  man,  and  of  a  more  intellectual  turn 
of  mind  than  his  younger  brother.  For  my  own  part,  I 
do  not  know  whether  or  not  I  exactly  like  Frank  Raby  ; 
I  think  his  father  has  acted  wrong  in  letting  him  be  so 
much  with  Sir  John  Inkleton,  who,  we  know,  although  a 
good-hearted  young  man,  has  some  strange  propensities, 
and  is  also  very  extravagant.  I  am  told  he  sj)ends  a 
thousand  a  year  amongst  coachmen  and  guards,  and  I 
hear  that  he  has  made  Frank  Raby  as  fond  of  coach- 
driving  and  fox-hunting  as  he  himself  is.  If  Frank  were 
the  elder,  instead  of  the  younger,  brother,  all  this  would 
not  be  so  material ;  but  as  his  chief  dependence,  to  pursue 
such  expensive  pleasures,  is  on  his  uncle,  I  wish  he  may 
not  place  it  on  a  broken  staff.     I  know  Mr.  Beaumont 


138        THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN 

Eaby  well,  and  surely  a  person  of  his  high  literary 
attainments,  and  great  personal  accomplishments,  and 
living  in  such  good  London  society,  must  think  very 
lightly  of  all  such  pursuits.  I  have,  indeed,  heard  him 
say  as  much  as  that  he  wished  both  his  nephews  to 
distinguish  themselves  at  Oxford,  if  not  to  carry  honours 
(which  you  know  was  his  own  case),  and  then  to  assume 
high  stations  in  the  senate  (which  you  know  was,  un- 
fortunately, not  his  case,  not  from  want  of  ability,  but 
from  a  natural  and  insuperable  indolence)  when  they 
make  their  appearance  in  the  world.  As  to  my  valued 
friend.  Lady  Charlotte,  I  am  quite  sure  she  is  much 
pained  at  the  accounts  she  hears  of  Frank's  hunting  and 
riding ;  and  Andrew  told  my  daughter  Jane,  the  other 
day,  that  he  has  already  been  in  scrapes,  connected  with 
them,  at  Oxford." 

"  All  very  fine  theory  of  yours,  my  dear  madam,"  said 
the  gouty  old  gentleman,  "but  doings  and  sayings  are 
wide  apart.  No  one  knows  Beaumont  Eaby  much  better 
than  I  do,  and  no  one  esteems  some  parts  of  his  character 
more.  All  know  his  literary,  as  well  as  his  personal, 
accomplishments  to  be  of  the  first  order;  at  the  same 
time,  where  can  we  find,  in  proportion  to  his  means,  a 
much  more  useless  member  of  society  ?  It  is  true,  he 
sends  his  money  to  Italy,  to  enrich  a  country  which  owns 
him  not  as  her  son,  and  thereby  may  be  said  to  encourage 
the  fine  arts  ;  but,  with  the  exception  of  the  benefit 
arising  from  the  necessary  disbursement  of  his  fine 
income,  what  good  does  he  do  for  his  own  ?  With  talents 
which  might  have  made  him  one  of  the  resources  of  his 
country,  he  sits  by,  and  looks  on  at  the  difficulties  that 
oppose  it,  all  his  energies  being  relaxed  and  absorbed  in 
what  may  be  called  the  etfeminacy  of  refinement.  But 
why  all  this  ?  Merely  because  he  was  averse,  from  his 
youth,  to  those  manly  pursuits  which  you  condemn,  and 
which  he  now  finds  out,  though  too  late,  would  have 
saved  him — as  they  have  his  brother — from  those  almost 
insupportable  bodily  inconveniences  he  at  this  time  endures. 
Then  look  at  my  own  case.  My  wife  entreated  me  to 
leave  oft'  hunting  with  my  friend  Baby's  harriers,  on  two 
accounts :  first,  she  feared  I  should  break  my  neck, 
emphatically  reminding  me  that  the  key  of  the  cupboard 
was  in  my  pocket ;  and,  secondly,  that,  as  a  clergyman, 
it  was  improper  in  me  to  hunt  or  shoot.     It  was  in  vain 


THE   LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN        139 

that  I  referrod  her  to  the  book  of  Genesis,  to  show  that 
hunting  was  ordained  by  the  Almighty  Himself,  and  also 
pursued  by  the  best  of  men.  Then  I  must  not  shoot,  for 
my  neighbour,  Lord  Longden,  did  not  like  it,  and  it 
would  prevent  his  giving  me  the  living  of  Branton,  which, 
you  well  know,  he  gave  to  a  distant  relation  only  last 
year,  although  I  hung  up  my  gun,  and  gave  away  my 
dogs,  seven  years  back.  My  case,  therefore,  is  that — more 
from  the  fear  of  displeasing  a  great  man,  than  offending 
my  God — for  I  cannot  look  upon  Him  as  so  severe  a  judge 
— I  have  done  myself  all  this  disservice.  I  am  punished 
in  this  world,  from  a  vain  apprehension  of  being  punished 
in  the  next ;  I  am  become  a  cripple,  by  disease  produced 
by  an  inactive  life,  and  am,  half  my  time,  useless  to  my 
parishioners  from  that  cause  alone.  It  is  now  too  late  to 
remedy  all  this ;  but  rather  would  I  incline  to  the  senti- 
ment of  Confucius,  that  he  who  finds  out  a  new  pleasure, 
provided  it  be  harmless,  is  one  of  the  most  useful  members 
of  society,  in  a  highly  civilised  country  like  our  own." 
The  ball  commenced  ; — 

"Music  arose,  with  its  voluptnous  swell; 
Soft  eyes  look'd  love  to  eyes  which  spoke  again  ; " 

and  our  hero  was  not  long  in  selecting  the  partner  of  his 
choice.  Like  Merion,  in  the  Iliad,  also,  he  distinguished 
himself  by  his  dancing,  a  qualification  hardly  to  have 
been  looked  for  in  one  who  might  have  been  disposed  to 
have  held  that  accomplishment  cheap.  But  such  was  not 
the  case.  It  was  enough  for  him  that  it  was  an  accomplish- 
ment, and  one  necessary  for  a  gentleman  ;  and  although 
it  could  not  have  been  said  of  him,  what  Shakspeare  says 
of  the  dancing-master,  that  "his  grace  was  only  in  his 
heels,"  he  had  taken  some  pains  to  improve  himself  in  the 
elegant  and  fascinating  art.  But  who  was  the  object  of 
his  choice  at  this  gay  ball,  where  were  assembled  all  the 
youth  and  beauty  of  the  neighbourhood,  that  the  higher 
class  of  society  could  boast  of  ?  Was  it  a  young  lady  in 
her  teens,  about  his  own  age,  and  one  who,  like  himself, 
had  just  made  her  debut  in  the  world  ?  It  was  not.  He 
had  selected  a  young  and  beautiful  married  woman  for  his 
partner,  and  who,  although  of  character  pure  and  spotless, 
seemed  somewhat  pleased  by  the  choice.  The  dance  con- 
cluded, he  led  her  to  her  seat,  and  agair  made  his  election. 
But  there  was  something  in  his  manner,at  this  moment,  that 


I40        THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN 

might  not  have  been  regarded  by  a  common  observer,  but 
which  attracted  the  eye  of  Lady  Charlotte,  and  also  of  his 
ci-devant  tutor,  who  happened  to  be  seated  by  her  side. 
There  did  not  appear  to  be  that  gaiety  in  his  demeanour, 
that  earnest  admiration  of  his  partner,  young  and  elegant 
as  she  was,  that  he  had  exhibited  whilst  standing  opposite 
to  Mrs.  Denham — for  that  was  the  young  matron's  name  ; 
neither  was  he  seen  approaching  her,  as  in  the  other  case, 
for  the  purpose  of  exchanging  words,  or  we  might  perhaps 
say,  thoughts.  All  this,  however,  would  have  been  passed 
over,  but  for  some  after-occurrences  which  had  less  chance 
of  escaping  the  notice  of  his  lynx-eyed  observers — for  such 
are  all  mothers,  if  not  all  tutors,  over  young  persons  of 
both  sexes  at  a  ball. 

In  the  dance  previous  to  entering  the  supper-room,  our 
hero  was  again  seen  leading  out  Mrs.  Denham,  and 
afterwards  appeared  seated  by  her  at  the  supper-table. 
Neither  did  his  attentions  stop  here.  "When  her  carriage 
was  ordered,  it  was  he  who  handed  her  into  it,  and  that 
■of  his  own  family  being  the  next  in  the  rank  of  those 
about  to  depart,  he  entered  it  with  these  words  on  his  lips  : 

"  Well,  Lady  Charlotte  (to  his  mother),  I  daresay  you 
will  be  glad  to  get  home,  for  you  have  had  a  fatiguing 
day  of  it.  But,  Emma  (to  his  sister),  was  it  not  a 
delightful  ball  ?  Is  not  that  Mrs.  Denham  a  beautiful 
creature  ?     I  am  so  glad  Sir  John  introduced  me  to  her." 

"  She  is,"  replied  Lady  Charlotte,  "  and  " — laying  some 
emphasis  on  the  first  epithet — "  as  good  as  she  is  beautiful." 

"  What  a  simoon  you  must  be,"  continued  Frank,  to  his 
-elder  brother,  "  to  dance  with  those  two  ugly  sisters,  and 
that  Miss  Johnson,  who  is  old  enough  to  have  been  your 
mother,  when  there  were  so  many  pretty  women  in  the 
room.  For  my  own  part,  I  think  dancing,  unless  with 
a  pretty  woman  for  a  partner,  one  of  the  greatest  of  all 
bores.  In  fact,  pretty  women  and  good  suppers  are,  with 
me,  the  only  inducement  to  go  to  balls." 

"Some  of  your  Christchurch  notions,"  said  Lady 
Charlotte,  "  or  else  those  of  your  friend  Sir  John.  But  I 
k:now  no  one  fonder  of  a  ball  than  he  is,  and  you  always 
^ee  him  dancing  away  as  if " 

"  Yes,"  resumed  our  hero ;  "  but  always  with  a  pretty 
woman.  I  have  heard  him  say,  he  dislikes  an  ugly 
woman  in  a  ballroom  as  much  as  he  would  an  ugly 
leader  in  his  coach.     He  swears  he  never  yet  saw  one  who 


THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN        141 

had  any  action  that  was  not  good-looking,  either  in  one 
place  or  in  the  other." 

"  Ah,"  resumed  Lady  Charlotte  ;  "  Sir  John's  tongue 
runs  fast,  as.  Dr.  Johnson  says,  the  race-horse  does  when 
he  carries  a  light  weight ;  but  are  you  quite  sure,  Francis, 
he  would  not  marry  that  little  ugly  heiress,  whose  fine 
estate  joins  his  own  1 " 

"  No,"  answered  Frank,  "  not  if  he  was  sure  that,  without 
her  and  her  estate,  he  could  never  sit  behind  the  bars,  or 
his  own  coach,  again." 

"  There  you  go  again,  Frank,"  observed  Lady  Charlotte 
laughingly ,"^  "  to  the  stable,  as  usual,  for  your  allusions." 

"  And  did  not  you  go  thither,  also,  my  dear  mother,  for 
your  simile— at  all  events,  to  the  race-horse?"  rejoined 
her  son. 

"  I  believe  I  did,"  replied  the  mother ;  "  but  I  do  not 
wonder  at  my  having  done  so  ;  for  when  you  are  at  home, 
and  especially  when  Sir  John  is  at  the  Abbey,  I  hear  of 
nothing  else  but  horses,  hounds,  and  coach-boxes,  leaders^ 
wheelers,  and  so  forth.  Still  I  like  Sir  John,  with  all  his 
foibles,  but  shall  tell  him,  the  next  time  I  see  him,  not  to 
be  introducing  you  to  pretty  married  women." 

Frank  said  nothing  in  answer  to  this  remark,  turning 
off  the  conversation  to  his  sister,  whom  he  asked,  in  a 
jocular  mood,  whether  either  of  her  partners  had  made  a 
tender  impression  upon  her  heart,  insinuating,  at  the 
same  time,  that  that  of  their  brother  Andrew  must 
necessarily  have  escaped  unscathed  in  the  assault,  from 
the  very  ineffective  strength  of  the  batteries. 

It  has  been  often  asserted  that,  amongst  the  infirmities 
of  human  nature,  men  take  some  pleasure  in  creating  a 
feeling  of  jealousy  towards  a  rival,  in  their  wives,  merely 
because  it  occasions  the  frequent  mention  of  the  name  of 
the  lady  who  may,  to  a  certain  extent,  have  supplanted 
them  in  their  affections.  One  thing,  however,  is  quite 
beyond  doubt ;  namely,  that  men — young  men  especially — 
are  perpetually  given  to  introduce  subjects  that  may  lead 
to  the  mention  of,  or  allusion  to,  the  object  of  theii 
attachment  and  love.  And  such  was  the  case  with  Frank 
Kaby.  It  would  be  useless  to  disguise  the  fact,  that  the 
personal  charms  of  Mrs.  Denham  had  made  an  impression 
on  our  hero  ;  and  the  words  "  Mrs.  Denham  said  this," 
and  "  Mrs.  Denham  thought  that,"  were  almost  perpetually 
on  his  tongue,  at  least,  as  often  as  opportunity  occurred  to 


142        THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN 

him.  And  what  excuse  can  be  made  for  his  indulging 
himself  in  the  anticipation  of  feasting  on  forbidden  fruit  ? 
None,  save  the  almost  irresistible  power  of  a  beautiful 
woman  on  a  heart  so  young  as  his  ;  and  the  following  is 
the  description  he  gave  of  Mrs.  Denham,  to  one  of  his 
Christchurch  friends,  on  his  return  to  Oxford,  after  the 
vacation  : — 

"She  is,"  said  he,  "just  what,  to  my  eye,  a  beautiful 
woman  should  be.  Her  person  is  of  an  advantageous 
stature,  very  well  proportioned,  and  not  too  tall.  Her 
hair  is  black  as  jet,  with  more  of  nature  than  art  in  the 
arrangement  of  it ;  her  eyes,  neither  quite  black  nor  yet 
grey,  contain  more  sweetness  than  fire.  Her  complexion 
inclines  to  the  pale,  though  it  does  not  want  freshness. 
There  is,  in  fact,  a  mixture  of  the  lily  with  the  rose,  and 
a  clearness  and  delicacy  of  skin  which  is  essential  to  beauty 
in  a  woman.  Her  words  and  actions  are  full  of  grace,  and 
there  appears  a  sweetness  of  temper  in  her  manner  and 
demeanour,  that  must  engage  the  affections  of  every  one. 
Then  there  is  a  feature  in  her  person  which  I  greatly 
admire,  and  that  is,  the  form  of  her  hand  and  arm.  By 
heavens,  they  might  be  copied  for  the  portrait  of  the 
white-armed  Juno  ;  and  her  bust  altogether  would  have 
done  for  a  Phidias  or  a  Praxiteles.  And  in  her,  even  is 
an  imperfection  created  a  beauty.  She  has  a  slight  hesita- 
tion in  uttering  her  words,  which,  if  she  were  my  wife,  I 
would  not  have  removed  on  any  account.  And  yet  I  can 
hardly  describe  to  you  the  effect  it  has,  but  it  is  somewhat 
like  this  : — it  gives  a  simplicity  of  expression,  delightful 
in  anyone,  but  irresistibly  so  in  a  pretty  woman  ;  a  sort 
of  confiding  manner  about  it,  which,  although  it  cannot 
be  described,  you  could  not  but  be  sensible  of ;  and  to  the 
expression  of  sentiments  of  endearment,  what  force  must 
it  give  !  " 

"And  what  kind  of  a  man  is  the  husband  of  this  fine 
woman?"  asked  Goodall,  for  it  was  to  him  that  Frank 
Raby  was  unbosoming  himself.  "  I  hope  he  is  deserving 
of  the  treasure." 

"  Not  he,  indeed,"  replied  our  hero  ;  "  he  appears 
scarcely  conscious  of  possessing  such  a  jewel.  If  I  had 
such  a  wife,  I  think  I  should  never  be  able  to  keep  my 
eyes  off  her  person  ;  whereas,  although  she  was  the  finest 
and  best-dressed  woman  at  the  ball  at  which  I  met  her,  I 
never  once  saw  him  even  look  upon  her — certainly  not  in 


THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN        143 

admiration.  Then  I  am  told  he  is  equally  indifferent  at 
all  times.  She  likes  riding,  and  is  a  beautiful  horse- 
woman, but  a  groom  is  her  general  attendant.  She  likes 
female  society,  but  her  husband  does  not,  and  few  of  her 
sex  are  asked  to  visit  her.  She  is  musical,  but  I  am  told 
he  never  quits  the  dining-room  in  time  to  hear  a  note 
of  it." 

'■'■  He  is  in  danger,  I  think,"  observed  Goodall,  with  a 
significant  wink  of  the  eye  ;  "and  especially  if  you " 

"  Nonsense,"  observed  Frank  ;  "  a  more  virtuous  woman 
never  lived.  I  confess  I  was  much  stricken  with  her  that 
night  at  the  ball,  and  danced  twice  with  her.  Perhaps  I 
may  never  see  her  again  ;  and  perhaps  it  will  be  well  for 
me  that  I  never  do.  In  fact,  when  I  handed  her  into  her 
carriage,  I  seemed  to  wish  to  bid  her  a  final  adieu  ;  and 
as  it  drove  from  the  door,  with  her  cold-hearted  husband 
by  her  side,  I  muttered  to  myself  those  lines  : — 

'Since  thou  would'st  needs,  bewitched  by  some  ill  charms, 
Be  buried  in  those  monumental  arms  ; 
All  I  can  say  is,  may  the  earth  lie  light 
Upon  thy  tender  limbs  :  and  so  good-night.' " 

But  to  return  to  the  party  at  the  Abbey. 

"  I  am  somewhat  uneasy,"  said  Lady  Charlotte  to  Mr. 
Egerton,  after  a  few  days  had  expired  since  the  night  of 
the  gay  ball,  "  about  your  friend  Francis.  I  really  think 
the  silly  boy  fancies  himself  in  love  with  that  beauti- 
ful, and,  I  believe,  very  excellent  person,  Mrs.  Denham. 
Emma  tells  me  he  is  always  talking  about  her,  and  he  says 
he  would  have  his  right  arm  cut  olf,  on  condition  that  he 
could  make  her  his  wife.  It  is  truly  ridiculous  ;  but  he 
seems  to  verify  the  proverb  of  '  love  at  first  sight ' — for, 
although  he  never  saw  Mrs.  Denham  before,  he  was 
evidently  smitten,  as  the  term  is,  by  her  charms.  For- 
tunately Mr.  Raby  knows  nothing  of  the  matter,  and  God 
forbid  he  should  ;  but  as  you  are  somewhat  aware  of  it, 
as  well  as  myself,  I  wish  you  would  take  an  opportunity 
of  giving  him  a  lecture  on  the  subject.  He  is  too  well 
disposed,  I  am  sure,  to  harbour  dishonourable  intentions 
towards  anyone  ;  but  the  fact  of  his  having  the  name  of 
the  lady  so  perpetually  in  his  mouth,  is  extremely  unjust 
towards  her,  and  the  very  thought  of  it  makes  me  wretched. 
Oh,"  continued  Lady  Charlotte,  somewhat  angrily,  "  I  will 
give  Sir  John  a  trimming  if  he  introduces  either  of  my 


144        THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN 

sons  again  to  a  married  woman,  merely  because  she  is 
pretty.  There  has  been  enough  of  mischief  in  my  family, 
on  that  score,  already,  without  Francis  adding  to  the 
stock." 

"  I  am  glad,  my  dear  Lady  Charlotte,"  said  Mr.  Egerton, 
"  that  you  have  mentioned  this  subject  to  me,  which,  I 
doubt  not,  is  a  painful  one  to  you,  as,  indeed,  it  is  to  my- 
self. I  have  a  strong  regard  for  Francis,  and  should 
extremely  lament  that  one  of  the  first  acts  of  his  manhood 
should  cast  a  slur  over  his  character,  which  it  might  never 
be  in  his  power  to  remove.  That  he  has  acted  impru- 
dently, at  all  events  thoughtlessly,  in  this  affair,  there  is  his 
own  evidence  to  show.  In  one  of  those  freaks  in  which 
human  nature  sometimes  indulges,  he  has  inconsiderately 
yielded  to  the  impression  made  upon  him  by  a  few  hours" 
intercourse  with,  certainly,  a  very  lovely  woman,  but  one 
whose  situation  in  life  forbids  her  ever  becoming  his  wife, 
unless  under  circumstances  which  no  rational  man  would 
anticipate,  much  less  speculate  upon  —  the  age  of  her 
husband  being  not  more  than  half  a  dozen  years  beyond 
his  own." 

"  Then  you  really  think  the  silly  boy  fancies  himself 
all  at  once  enamoured  with  another  man's  wife  ? "  inter- 
rupted Lady  Charlotte,  with  marked  anxiety  in  her 
countenance. 

""Why,"  replied  Mr.  Egerton,  "if  it  were  justifiable  to 
make  a  joke  of  a  subject  so  serious  as  this,  it  might  create 
a  smile  were  I  to  tell  you  in  what  way  my  suspicions  have 
been  confirmed.  Whilst  Francis  was  under  my  tuition, 
his  constant  objection  to  verse-making  was,  that  he  had 
no  poetry  in  his  soul ;  in  fact,  that  Nature  had  forbidden 
his  being  a  poet,  and,  consequently,  his  attempt  at  mak- 
ing verses  was  a  futile  one.  But  mark  the  change  !  No 
sooner  does  the  *  silly  boy,'  as  your  ladyship  so  properly 
styles  him,  fancy  himself  in  love,  than  he  likewise  fancies 
himself  a  poet." 

"  Surely,"  exclaimed  Lady  Charlotte,  "  he  has  not  been 
writing  verses  to  Mrs.  Denham  ? " 

"  I  hope  not,"  replied  Mr.  Egerton  ;  "  but  that  he  has 
been  exercising  his  newly-acquired  talent  on  Mrs.  Denham, 
I  fear  there  is  no  reason  to  doubt  ;  and  I  speak  from 
somewhat  like  ocular  demonstration  of  the  fact.  Happen- 
ing to  enter  his  room  yesterday  afternoon,  in  search  of  a 
book  I  had  lent  him,  I  saw  some  scraps  of  paper  on  his 


THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN        145 

table,  on  which,  in  spite  of  erasures  and  alterations,  I 
could  decipher  the  following  lines  (the  fair  copies,  I  pre- 
sume, he  may  have  put  into  his  pocket,  intending,  as  may 
be  also  presumed,  to  throw  the  rough  ones  into  the  fire). 
The  first  ran  thus  : — 

'  Sweet's  the  light  of  morning  breaking 
O'er  the  dew-bespangled  mead  ; 

Sweet  the  night-breeze,  hardly  shaking 
In  its  course  the  pliant  reed. 

Sweeter  far  the  smile  enlightening- 
Beauty's  soft  and  sparkling  cheek  ; 

And  the  sigh  love's  ardour  heightening, 
With  its  breath  so  soft  and  meek.' 

"  Then  scrap  the  second  contained  these  : — 

'  Thou  hast  an  eye  of  tender  blue, 
And  thou  hast  locks  of  sable  hue, 
And  cheeks  that  shame  the  morning's  break, 
And  lips  that  might,  for  redness,  make 

Roses  seem  pale  beside  them : 
But  whether  soft  or  sweet  as  they, 
Lady,  alas  !  I  cannot  say, 

For  /  have  never  tried  them. 

'  Yet  thus  created  for  delight, 
Lady  !  thou  art  not ' 

"  He  proceeds  no  further  ;  vulgarly  speaking,  there  is 
a  hole  in  the  ballad.  But,  turning  over  the  paper,  I 
found  that  his  muse  had  been  again  at  work,  and  had 
again  failed.  Even  love,  I  fear,  will  not  make  Francis  a 
poet.     He  had  scribbled  thus  : — 

'  The  music  ceased,  the  last  gay  dance  was  o'er, 

And  one  by  one  the  brilliant  beauties  fled  ; 

The  garlands  vanished  from  the  frescoed  floor, 

The  nodding  fiddler  hung  his  weary  head  ; 

'  And  I,  a  melancholy  single  man, 
Retired  to  mourn  my  solitary  fate  ; 
I  slept  awhile,  but  o'er  my  slumbering  ran 
The  sylph-like  image  of  my  darling  mate. 

'  I  dreamt  of  mutual  love,  and  Hymen's  joys. 
Of  happy  moments  and  connubial  blisses  ; 
And  then  I  thought  of  little  girls  and  boys, 
The  mother's  glances,  and  the  infant's  kisses. 

'  But  when  I  woke,  how  changed  appear'd  the  scene  ; 
I  found ' 

10 


146        THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN 

"  Here  he  stopped,  with  the  words — '  Query,  look  out 
mate  in  Johnson  ;  fear  it  won't  do  for  partner  at  a  ball. 
Implies  partner  for  life,  and  that  can't  be.  The  devil 
take ' " 

"Well,  really,  Mr.  Egerton,"  said  Lady  Charlotte,  "this 
farrago  of  nonsense  is  almost  laughable.  However,  al- 
though, no  doubt,  another  term  at  Christchurch  will  cure 
him  of  his  '  love  at  first  sight,'  still,  I  wish  you  would  talk 
seriously  to  him  on  the  subject,  and  warn  him  of  the  con- 
sequences of  indulging  a  guilty  jDassion." 

"That  I  will  certainly  do,"  replied  Mr.  Egerton,  "at 
the  first  convenient  opportunity  ;  and  also  tell  him  not  to 
indulge  in  the  sudden  inspiration  of  his  muse,  unless  he 
can  turn  it  to  a  better  account.  I  think,  however,  I  know 
your  son  well  enough  to  persuade  myself  that  the  present 
outbreak  is  but  the  mere  ebullition  of  youthful  blood,  and 
that  a  little  cool  reflection  will  restore  him  to  his  senses. 
First,  his  heart  ran  away  with  his  tongue ;  and  then,  his 
tongue  ran  away  with  his  heart." 

Not  many  hours  elapsed  before  the  wished-for  oj^por- 
tunity  arrived,  during  a  stroll  through  the  shrubberies, 
for  Mr.  Egerton  to  fulfil  the  promise  he  had  made  to  Lady 
Charlotte  ;  which  he  did  with  both  grace  and  feeling  : 
pointing  out  to  Frank  the  folly,  to  say  the  least  of  it,  of 
this  newly-born  fancy,  and  requiring  from  him  a  pledge 
that  he  would  think  no  more  of  Mrs.  Denham,  further 
than  as  a  common  acquaintance  of  the  day  ;  nor  continue 
to  mention  her  name  so  lightly  as  he  had  lately  done. 
This  pledge  Frank  willingly  gave,  and  a  circumstance 
shortly  afterwards  occurred  to  put  the  seal  upon  the  same. 
Mr.  Denham's  father  died,  in  consequence  of  which  he 
removed  his  family  to  a  distant  part  of  England,  and  our 
hero  and  the  beautiful  Mrs.  Denham  never  met  again. 

There  is  little  more  to  record  of  the  proceedings  of  the 
long  vacation,  fishing  and  shooting  being  the  principal 
amusements  of  that  period — at  all  events,  with  young 
men  who,  like  Frank  Raby,  come  under  the  denomination 
of  sportsmen.  Relating  to  the  last-named  diversion,  one 
fact  is  worth  mentioning  : — What  is  called  flapper-shoot- 
ing was  amongst  the  sports  entered  into  with  spirit  by 
our  hero,  and,  what  is  very  rarely  the  case,  it  was  not,  in 
this  instance,  merely  confined  to  young  wild  ducks.  The 
great  lake  in  the  park,  at  Amstead,  was  also  frequented  by 
teals,  which  bred  in  one  of  its  islands  in  the  summer,  a 


THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN        147 

fact  very  much  doubted  by  naturalists,  and  certainly  of 
rare  occurrence  in  the  southern  parts  of  England.  AVith 
a  brace  of  well -broken  retrievers,  flapper  -  shooting, 
whether  at  ducks  or  teal,  is  very  good  sport,  and  rendered 
valuable  by  its  being  seasonable  previously  to  the  com- 
mencement of  game-shooting,  to  which  it  of  course  gives 
place. 

At  partridge-shooting,  Frank  Eaby  was  now  become  an 
adept.  In  fact,  there  was  but  little  difference,  in  the 
contribution  to  the  bag,  between  himself  and  the  elder 
Perren  ;  and  as  for  Jem,  he  bowed  to  the  superiority  of 
his  young  master,  Avho,  he  was  heard  to  say,  "he  believed 
would  turn  out  a  capital  sportsman,  in  spite  of  all  that 
had  been  done  to  spoil  him,  by  sending  him  to  Eton  and 
Oxford."  And  our  hero,  with  a  gun  in  his  hand,  was  a 
sportsman  in  the  strict  sense  of  that  word,  and  not  merely 
what,  in  these  times,  is  more  reckoned  upon,  namely,  "  a 
dead  shot"  "The  latter,"  as  Mr.  Cobbett  eloquently 
expressed  himself,  in  allusion  to  the  admirers  of  the 
modern  battue  system,  "never  participates  in  that  great 
delight  which  all  sensible  men  enjoy  at  beholding  the 
beautiful  action,  the  docility,  the  zeal,  the  wonderful 
sagacity  of  the  pointer  and  the  setter  ; "  but  their  merit 
consists  in  rarely  missing  a  jiheasant  which  is  found  for 
them  by  men-beaters,  and  in  slaughtering  as  many  head 
of  game  in  a  day,  as  a  sportsman,  who  takes  pleasure 
in  finding  them,  would  be  satisfied  with  in  a  week. 
Pheasants,  however,  were  not,  at  this  period,  plentiful 
on  the  Amstead  estate,  but  their  rarity  increased  their 
value.  There  were,  in  those  days,  no  "  sky-rockets  of 
pheasants,"  as  in  the  technical  language  of  these,  when 
a  cloud  of  them  rises  in  a  corner  of  a  cover  into  which 
they  have  been  driven,  and  three  or  four  fall  at  a  shot. 

We  will  now  exhibit  our  hero  at  the  county  races,  it 
being  his  first  appearance  on  a  race-course  since  he  had 
visited  Ascot  during  his  sojourn  with  his  uncle  in 
London,  the  account  of  which  we  have  detailed.  It 
appeared  that  he  had  brought  along  with  him,  from  that 
aristocratic  meeting,  a  few  aristocratic  ideas,  and,  amongst 
them,  the  notion  that  it  was  considered  very  slow  indeed 
to  be  a  looker-on  at  any  species  of  diversion  without  having 
an  interest  in  it;  and  in  this  case,  having  no  bond  fide  interest 
in  the  horses — none  appearing  in  his  name —  he  could  only 
concern  himself  with  their  performances.     His  betting- 


148       THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN 

book,  then,  was  produced,  and  a  few  speculations  entered 
in  it,  thougli  altogether  to  a  trifling  amount.  This  act  of 
our  hero,  however,  gave  birth  to  a  ludicrous  incident  or 
two,  which,  as  a  caution  to  youngsters  who  venture  on 
the  same  slippery  ground,  it  may  not  be  amiss  to  make 
mention  of. 

"Pray,  Francis,"  said  Lady  Charlotte  to  her  son,  on 
observing  him,  from  the  window  of  her  coach,  familiarly 
addressed,  on  the  second  day  of  the  meeting,  by  a  person 
of  doubtful  appearance — that  is  to  say,  a  very  ordinary- 
looking  man,  in  tolerably  good  clothes — "who  is  the 
friend  who  came  up  to  you  just  now,  and  seemed  so  glad 
to  see  you  ?" 

"  Oh,"  replied  our  hero,  who  did  not  intend  to  let  his 
mother  into  the  secret,  "  he  only  wanted  to  speak  to  me 
about  one  of  the  horses." 

"  And  that  strange-looking  old  man,  on  a  white  horse, 
in  a  harness  bridle,  who  followed  you  a  long  way  down 
the  course,  apparently  in  earnest  conversation  with  you, 
and  carrying  a  book  in  his  hand  ?  "  continued  Lady 
Charlotte. 

Here  was  a  poser  for  the  young  sportsman.  He  was 
above  telling  an  untruth,  but  was  somewhat  puzzled  for 
an  off-hand  answer  to  rather  a  close  question. 

"  A  bothering  old  Irishman,  by  the  name  of  O'Hara," 
replied  Frank,  "  who  has  been  trying  to  persuade  me,  that 
he  could  pick  out  the  winner  of  the  next  race,  and  wanted 
to  know  whether  I  thought  /  could  do  so,  also  1  " 

"  But,  Francis,"  exclaimed  his  sister,  "  I  saw  you  all  but 
quarrelling  with  some  ill-looking  man  on  the  other  side 
of  the  course  ;  what  could  that  have  been  about  1 " 

"  Why,  I  had  better  tell  you  the  real  state  of  the  case 
at  once,"  replied  Francis.  "  The  persons  you  allude  to 
are  all  of  them  members  of  the  most  rascally  community 
upon  earth  —  known  by  the  appellation  of  black-legs. 
They  attend  all  country  races  ;  and,  having  heard  me 
offer  a  few  bets  yesterday,  have  been  following  me  about 
the  course  to-day,  with  the  hope  of  winning  my  money. 
But  I  shall  be  very  cautious  in  having  anything  to  say  to 
them,  for  two  reasons.  In  the  first  place,  my  knowledge 
of  the  horses  must  be  very  inferior  to  that  of  themselves, 
who  are  intimate  with  all  the  trainers  and  jockeys  in  the 
county ;  and  in  the  next,  many  of  them  dispute  a  bet 
if  they  lose  it.    For  example,  the  man  Emma  saw  me 


THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN        149 

disputing  with,  served  me  thus  : — having  won  ten  pounds 
from  him  yesterday,  I  went  up  to  him  to-day,  and  said, 
very  civilly,  '  I  will  thank  you  for  ten  pounds  ; '  on  which 
he  replied,  'I  beg  pardon,  sir,  /  have  ten  jwimds  to  receive 
from  you.^  " 

"  And  did  you  pay  the  fellow  1  "  said  Lady  Charlotte. 

"  I  did  not',"  replied  Frank,  "  but  I  lost  the  ten  pounds 
I  won  from  him.  Then  that  old  Irishman  is,  I  under- 
stand, famous  for  making  wrangles,  and  disputing  bets 
which  he  loses.  But  the  greatest  adept  of  them  all,  is  the 
well-dressed  rascal  you  first  saw  me  speaking  to.  He  has 
a  method  of  half- shutting  one  eye,  so  as  to  give  the 
appearance  of  being  blind  of  it.  This  device  serves  him 
in  two  ways.  When  he  makes  a  bet  with  a  stranger,  he 
appears  blind  of  an  eye,  previous  to  the  event  being  de- 
cided ;  if  the  bet  is  lost,  he  shows  two  good  eyes,  and 
the  stranger  being  in  pursuit  of  a  one-eyed  man  to  pay 
him  his  money,  overlooks  him  in  the  crowd,  and,  of 
course,  never  gets  paid.  Then,  again,  I  heard  of  his 
doing  a  very  neat  thing,  the  other  day,  by  the  help  of 
this  accommodating  eye.  He  lost  twenty  pounds  to  a 
stranger,  on  a  race,  having  his  eye  closed  when  he  made 
the  bet.  On  the  result  being  against  him,  he  thus 
addressed  his  antagonist,  with  his  eye  wide  open  : — '  I 
believe,  sir,  I  owe  you  twenty  pounds.'  '  You  mistake 
sir,'  replied  the  other,  '  I  had  only  one  bet  on  the  race, 
and  that  v:as  icith  a  one-eyed  gentleman.'  " 

"Well,  really,  Francis,"  observed  Lady  Charlotte,  "I 
think  you  must  be  a  very  great  simpleton  to  have  any- 
thing to  do  with  such  scoundrels  ;  in  fact,  it  is  only 
with  simpletons  that  they  dare  to  play  such  tricks.  As 
you  cannot  be  a  match  for  them,  I  hope  you  will,  from 
this  time  forth,  have  nothing  more  to  do  with  them." 

Our  hero  made  no  reply,  and  so  the  matter  dropped. 

The  other  incident  which  occurred  is  of  a  more  harmless 
nature.  In  the  days  to  which  I  am  now  alluding,  it  was 
the  custom  for  the  public  dinners,  or  "  ordinaries,"  as 
they  are  termed,  at  race  meetings,  to  be  attended  by  the 
gentlemen  of  rank  and  wealth  in  the  neighbourhood,  as 
well  as,  occasionally,  by  a  few  whose  situation  in  life, 
although  respectable,  did  not  allow  of  their  being  in  such 
good  company  on  any  other  occasion.  Amongst  the  latter 
class  was  a  wealthy  young  yeoman,  fond  of  racing  and 
hunting  almost  to  insanity,  but  who,  from  his  appearance 


ISO       THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN 

and  manners,  would,  in  these  days,  be  placed  at  the  head 
of  all  the  snobs.  There  was,  also,  in  the  room,  a  gentle- 
man in  whom  he  greatly  delighted,  inasmuch  as  he  was 
an  owner  of  harriers  and  race-horses,  and,  by  his  extreme 
good-nature  and  affability,  a  highly  popular  character 
with  the  order  of  which  his  admirer  made  one.  It 
chanced  that  they  sat  opposite  to  each  other  at  the 
dinner-table  ;  and  as  the  youthful  blood  of  the  yeoman 
waxed  warm  with  wine,  he  resolved  to  pay  his  favourite 
Squire  a  compliment,  and,  taking  courage,  thus  addressed 
the  chair: — 

"Mr.  President,  may  I  be  allowed  to  propose  a  toast  ? " 

"  By  all  means,"  replied  the  president. 

"  Then  I  will  give  you — Doivn- Barton^ s  glory,"  said  the 
man,  who  delighted  in  hounds  and  horses,  and  doated  on 
the  Squire  that  was  the  owner  of  them. 

"  Down-Barton's  glory  ? "  repeated  the  steward  ;  "  I 
must  beg  an  explanation  of  the  toast,  for  I  do  not  com- 
prehend its  meaning." 

"  Then,  sir,  you  shall  have  it,"  resumed  the  yeoman  ; 
"  I  mean  Squire  CranhrooJc,  and  there  he  sits" — (pointing  to 
his  opposite  neighbour). 

It  was  now  the  Squire's  turn  to  pay  a  compliment,  his 
health  having  been  drunk  with  great  applause ;  and  this 
is  the  way  in  which  he  did  it.  Sending  for  his  servant, 
he  ordered  him  to  go  to  a  druggist's  shop,  and  get  half 
a  pint  of  syrup  of  buckthorn,  which  he  was  to  put  into 
a  bottle  containing  an  equal  quantity  of  claret,  and,  when 
well  mixed,  to  put  it  by  him  on  the  table.  "  Now,  Mr. 
President,"  said  Squire  Cranbrook,  "  allow  me  to  give  a 
toast." 

"  By  all  means,"  answered  the  steward  ;  "  always  happy 
to  hear  from  Mr.  Cranbrook." 

"  Then  I'll  give  you  the  health  of  my  opposite  neigh- 
bour, Mr.  Eidgeways,  a  good  sportsman,  and  a  dear  lover 
of  horses  and  hounds,"  replied  Squire  Cranbrook.  "  Stand 
up,  if  you  please,  Mr.  Eidgeways  (himself  also  rising  from 
his  seat  at  the  moment,  with  a  bumper  of  claret  in  one 
hand,  and  the  delightful  mixture  in  the  other).  Now, 
sir,"  said  he  to  his  admirer,  "  to  convince  you  of  the  high 
sense  I  entertain  of  the  compliment  you  have  paid  me,  in 
proposing  my  health  in  the  flattering  manner  in  which 
you  have  done  it,  we  will,  if  you  please,  pledge  to  each 
other  in  a  bumper,  out  of  the  same  bottle." 


THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN        151 

"I  should  be  delighted,  sir,"  hiccnped  the  yeoman — 
the  Squire  filling  his  (Mr.  Eidgeways')  glass  at  the  moment. 
"  And  now,  sir,"  continued  the  Squire,  as  a  still  further 
proof  of  sincerity,  and  my  high  esteem  for  you  as  a 
sportsman  and  gentleman,  suppose  we  take  off  our  glasses 
at  a  chuck,  and  I'll  give  the  word." 

"  Delighted  beyond  measure,"  replied  the  head  of  all 
the  snobs. 

"  Gentlemen  !  "  exclaimed  the  Squire,  "  here's  the 
health  of  Mr.  Ridgeways,  a  great  promoter  of  sport. — Mr. 
Eidgeways'  good  health — now,"  and  at  the  word  "  now," 
the  contents  of  both  glasses  disappeared. 

The  sequel  of  the  story  is  soon  told.  The  operation  of 
the  buckthorn  was  instantaneous  ;  and  the  warm-hearted 
yeoman  was  carried  out  of  the  room  in  a  state  that  need 
not,  if  it  could,  be  described. 


CHAPTEE    IX 

Two  events  occur,  of  great  influence  upon  the  career  of  the  hero  : 
he  takes  his  degree  at  Oxford,  and  loses  his  brother,  whereby 
he  becomes  heir  to  the  goodly  domains  of  Amstead. 

WE  now  proceed  to  rather  an  awful  period  in  the  lives 
of  young  English  gentlemen,  and  of  such,  especially, 
as  may  wish  to  distinguish  themselves  as  scholars — namely, 
the  taking  a  degree  at  college.  At  the  period,  however, 
to  which  we  are  now  alluding,  between  thirty  and  forty 
years  back,  this  was  a  less  serious  affair  than  it  now  is, 
inasmuch  as  the  undergraduates  and  examining  masters 
— of  Oxford,  in  particular — were  more  intimately  associated 
with  college  convivialities  than  they  now  are  ;  so  much 
so,  indeed,  that  not  only,  in  many  cases,  were  the  selection 
of  the  master  to  examine  them,  and  the  books  in  which 
they  were  to  be  examined,  left  to  the  candidate's  choice, 
but,  on  the  preceding  evening,  at  what  is  now  called, 
amongst  the  vulgar,  "a  good  blow  out,"  at  the  said 
candidate's  expense,  the  very  passages  in  the  chosen 
authors  were  pointed  out  as  having  been  carefully  perused 
for  the  occasion. 

The  sequel  to  this  part  of  the  progress  of  my  hero  and 
his  brother  is  soon  told.     Andrew  took  a  first-class  degree, 


152        THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN 

and  was  highly  complimented  in  the  schools  ;  and  Frank 
obtained  one  quite  above  the  average  of  those  taken,  or 
even  tried  for,  by  young  gentlemen  brought  up  as  he  had 
been  brought  up,  amongst  hounds,  horses,  gamekeepers, 
and  coachmen,  and  whose  mind  was  strongly  bent  towards 
all  the  uses  to  which  such  animals  are  applied. 

Having  completed  their  Oxford  "trials,"  everything 
was  arranged  for  the  departure  of  the  two  Rabys  on  their 
travels,  when  an  unexpected  event  put  a  stop  to  it.  The 
insidious  disease  which  had  long  been  making  silent, 
though  certain,  inroads  on  the  naturally  weakly  constitu- 
tion of  the  elder  brother,  now  showed  itself  openlj^ ;  and 
it  was  the  opinion  of  his  medical  attendants  that  a  conti- 
nental tour  was  out  of  the  question,  whatever  might  be 
the  result  of  the  benign  influence  of  a  more  temperate 
climate  than  the  one  in  which  he  was  then  living.  This 
step  was  in  contemplation,  but  met  with  the  same  fate,  in 
being  also  deemed  impracticable,  and  was,  of  course,  at 
once  abandoned.  In  short,  the  rupture  of  a  blood-vessel 
at  the  lungs,  produced  by  a  fit  of  coughing,  brought  on  a 
rapid  exhaustion  of  a  body  already  enfeebled  by  disease 
and  weakly  from  its  l)irth  ;  and  in  less  than  a  month  from 
the  day  on  which  that  occurrence  took  place,  this  talented 
and  amiable,  although  somewhat  eccentric  young  man, 
was  laid  by  the  side  of  his  ancestors  in  the  family  vault 
of  Amstead  church. 

It  is  almost  needless  to  remind  the  reader  of  the  change 
that  had  now  taken  place  in  the  situation  and  prospects 
of  our  hero.  In  the  place  of  his  being  sure  of  succeeding 
to  nothing  at  the  decease  of  his  father,  beyond  his  share 
of  the  money  settled  on  younger  children  on  his  marriage, 
which,  as  there  were  only  two,  amounted  to  £15,000,  he 
now  found  himself  heir-apparent  to  the  entire  Amstead 
estate,  settled  by  entail  on  male  heirs  ;  and  likewise  heir- 
presumptive — at  least,  such  had  he  a  right  to  consider 
himself — to  the  very  considerable  wealth  of  his  uncle. 
The  effect  of  this  change  very  soon  became  visible  ;  two 
more  hunters  were  talked  of,  as  necessary  to  hunt  with 
the  foxhounds,  the  Amstead  harriers  and  "  old  Dick " 
being  considered  as  infra  dig.,  if  not  absolute  bores. 
Perren  also  was  spoken  to,  by  the  "  young  Squire,"  in  a 
tone  somewhat  different  to  what  he  had  been  previously 
accustomed  to  from  the  late  "young  Squire,"  or  even  from 
our  hero  himself.     "  I  u-ill  have  lots  of  pheasants  in  the 


THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN        153 

'  Big  Wood,' "  said  he  to  him  one  day  ;  "  and  likewise  in 
'  Blackthorn  Rough  ; '  they  will  make  capital  preserves.'"' 

"  That  they  sartinly  will,  Mr.  Francis,"  replied 
Perren  ;  "  but  where  am  I  to  get  the  pheasants  to  stock 
them  with  ?  I  doubt  the  Squire  will  not  stand  the 
expense." 

"  D — n  the  expense !  "  said  Francis  ;  "  I  will  find  the 
pheasants.  I  can  have  as  many  as  I  like  from  a  man  in 
London  ;  and  if  the  Squire  will  not  pay  for  them,  I 
will." 

"  But  the  lookers  -  out,  Mr.  Francis,"  resumed  the 
keeper  ;  "  who  is  to  pay  them  ?  Old  Will  Hodges  and 
Jack  Barret  will  have  no  chance  against  the  poachers, 
when  our  covers  are  full  of  pheasants." 

"  I  will  find  lookers-out,"  answered  our  hero,  "and  some 
of  the  right  sort,  too.  You  must  draft  those  two  old 
cripples,  who  are  quite  unequal  to  their  task,  and  have 
long  been  so." 

"  Well,  to  be  sure,"  said  Perren,  "  they  are  poor  creatures 
for  that  purpose,  sir,  but  you  know " 

"  Yes,  yes,"  exclaimed  Francis,  "  I  know  what  you  are 
going  to  say ;  they  are  worn  out  in  our  service  ;  but  I 
shall  not  forget  that  circumstance  ;  and  I  will  take  care 
to  provide  for  them,  although  I  believe  they  have  ginned 
many  a  hare  in  their  time,  and  spent  the  money  they  sold 
them  for  in  the  alehouse." 

"  Well,  to  be  sure,"  continued  Perren,  "  they  both  loves 
a  drojD  of  drink,  as  most  people  who  follows  field  sports 
commonly  do  ;  but  I  never  catched  them  out  in  selling 
any  game." 

"  I  daresay  not,"  answered  Frank  ;  "  they  are  both  too 
sly  for  that." 

Then,  again,  a  conversation  took  j^lace,  in  the  stable, 
between  the  young  Squire  and  the  coachman,  somewhat  to 
this  effect  : — 

"  I  must  make  my  father  get  rid  of  these  infernal  long- 
tailed  blacks,"  said  the  former  ;  "  they  are  really  only  fit 
for  a  London  black  job." 

"  You  are  quite  right,  sir,"  observed  the  latter  ;  "  I  am 
really  quite  ashamed  of  them  when  we  go  to  the  races,  or 
to  dine  at  Sir  John's,  or  Lord  Morton's.  In  short,  the 
sarvants  make  game  of  me,  and  tell  me  I  want  nothing  but 
the  cold-meat  cart  behind  me  ;  and  one  of  them — a  London 
sarvant,  who  was  at  the  Grange  on  a  visit — axed  me  if  I 


154        THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN 

wani't  agoing  to  be  coachman  to  King  Pluto  ?  But  I  tell 
you,  Mr.  Francis,  it's  no  use  speaking  to  the  Squire  about 
these  here  old  blacks  ;  it's  my  lady  that  will  do  the  busi- 
ness. I  often  hear  my  lady  praising  other  gentlefolk's 
coach-horses  ;  and  I  once  heard  her  say  she  '  wished  Mr. 
Eaby  would  get  a  better  sort  in  his  stable.'  Now  you 
know,  sir,  the  Squire  never  refuses  my  lady  anything  ; 
see  what  expense  he  goes  to  with  those  tame  pheasants, 
and  that  trumpery  flower-garden  ;  I  am  sure,  sir,  one  word 
from  my  lady  would  do  it." 

"  Oh,' I'll  do  it !  "said  Frank  ;  "  I  am  determined  these 
stinking,  greasy-heeled  brutes  shall  be  drafted,  and  that 
infernal  old  coach,  too  ;  for  you  might  as  well  attempt  to 
drive  four  horses  from  a  stool,  as  from  that  thing  called  a 
box." 

Then  the  old  and  faithful  butler  was  talked  to,  much 
after  this  fashion,  the  first  time  our  hero  caught  him 
alone  in  his  pantry. 

"  Is  your  stock  of  claret  low  ?"  demanded  Frank. 
"  Not  particularly  so,"  replied  the  butler. 
"The  Squire  has  got  very  shy  of  it,  then,"  resumed 
Frank  ;  "I  was  quite  annoyed  on  Monday,  when  Sir 
John  Inkleton  and  those  gentlemen  dined  here  ;  he 
never  called  for  it  until  he  had  half  poisoned  them 
with  his  '  old  port,'  as  he  calls  it,  only  fit  for  the 
steward's  room." 

"  It  is  very  dear,  you  know,  Mr.  Francis  ;  at  least,  such 
as  is  drunk  in  this  house  ;  Carbonell's  best.  Let  me  see, 
nearly  £100  the  hogshead,  or  twelve  shillings  the  bottle  ; 
a  deal  of  money,  sir,  to  be  swallowed  at  four  glasses  !  it's 
like  swallowing  gold,  Mr.  Francis." 

"  Nonsense,"  said  Francis  ;  "  what  if  it  is  ? — there  is 
plenty  here  to  pay  for  it.  And  the  champagne  ;  how  is  it 
we  did  not  have  champagne  on  Monday  ?"  "  Lord  !  sir," 
replied  the  l^utler,  "  you  would  not  drink  champagne  in 
such  cold  weather  as  this  ;  it's  only  fit  for  the  dog-days, 
when  you  want  something  to  cool  you."  "  Well,"  said 
our  hero,  "  these  things  must  be  altered,  or  few  of  my 
friends  will  come  a  second  time  to  the  Abbey." 
Next  comes  Mrs.  Jones,  the  old  housekeeper. 
"  Upon  my  word,  Mother  Jones,"  said  the  young  Squire 
to  her,  as  she  was  giving  out  some  essentials  to  the  cook, 
"you  are  getting  very  slack,  indeed  ;  and  as  for  you,"  ad- 
dressing himself  to  the  cook,  "  it  is  time  to  put  you  on 


THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN        155 

the  shelf, — not  that  you  must  want  for  anything  for  the 
rest  of  your  life,  for  you  have  been  an  excellent  servant. 
But,  Mother  Jones,  you  are  really  past  enduring.  Your 
bills  of  fare  are  of  the  most  scanty  dimensions,  and  as  for 
your  second  courses,  you  really  give  us  nothing." 

"  Lord,  sir,"  replied  Mrs.  Jones,  "  what  can  I  give  you, 
at  this  time  of  the  year,  better  than  you  always  have  1 — 
either  hare,  woodcock,  or  snipes,  as  the  keeper  brings 
them  in  ;  for  you  know  we  have  no  pheasants  here,  at 
least  very  few." 

"  We  will  soon  have  plenty,"  said  Frank  ;  "  but  mind 
this, — I  have  two  friends  coming  to  visit  me  next  week, 
and  as  the  fathers  of  each  keep  excellent  tables — indeed, 
one  of  them  gives  £200  a  year  to  his  French  cook — I 
do  hope  you  and  the  cook  will  exert  yourselves,  and 
not  let  them  go  home  saying  they  were  half-starved  at 
Amstead." 

"  No  one  was  ever  starved  here  yet,"  muttered  the  cook, 
as  she  walked  out  of  the  room,  not  a  little  nettled  at  the 
remark  ;  adding,  when  she  thought  she  was  out  of  hearing, 
— "  This  comes  of  your  Christchurch  job ;  but  it  does  not 
signify  talking,  the  times  get  worse  and  worse.  Gentlemen 
isn't  now  what  they  had  used  to  be,  contented  with  a  good 
wholesome  dinner;  a  plague  on  those  French  cooks,  say 
I  ;  they  have  brought  many  a  good  gentleman  to  the  dogs. 
I  know  one  of  them  who " 

Here  her  voice  was  drowned  by  persons  meeting  her  in 
the  passage  which  led  to  her  scene  of  action — the  well- 
stored  kitchen— our  hero  joining  with  Mrs.  Jones  in  a 
hearty  laugh  at  the  zeal  displayed  by  the  faithful  old  cook 
for  the  credit  of  the  Amstead  kitchen. 

Sufficient  for  the  day  is  the  evil  thereof  :  here  the  con- 
versation with  this  class  of  domestics  ceased ;  but  on  the 
following  morning  it  was  somewhat  alarmingly  resumed 
amongst  those  of  another  description. 

"  I  want  to  see  Mr.  Robson,"  said  our  hero,  and  Mr. 
Robson  (the  steward)  made  his  appearance. 

"  Robson,"  said  Frank  Raby,  "  I  want  to  find  out  a  part 
of  the  park  where  the  ground  is  very  dry  and  sound,  and 
quite  out  of  sight  of  the  house  ;  also  within  easy  reach  of 
water." 

"  May  I  ask  you,  sir,"  replied  Mr.  Robson,  "  for  what 
purpose  you  intend  to  apply  such  land?  If  for  plant- 
ing  " 


156        THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN 

"  It  is  not  for  planting  at  all,"  interrupted  the  young 
Squire  (for  ^^  being  planted,^'  perliaj^s,  would  have  been  no 
misnomer).  "  I  have  some  idea  of  getting  two  or  three 
thorough-bred  brood  mares,  in  which  case  half-a-dozen 
paddocks  will  be  necessary.  The  spot  should  be  high  and 
dry,  and  in  as  retired  a  part  as  can  be  found,  that  the 
mares  may  not  be  disturbed." 

"  Have  you  consulted  the  Squire,  sir,  may  I  be  so  bold 
to  ask  1 "  observed  the  steward. 

"Not  yet,"  answered  Frank;  "but  leave  that  to  me. 
Let  us  walk  into  the  park,  and  look  for  the  i^lace  I 
want." 

As  they  were  proceeding  on  their  errand,  through  the 
fine  and  well- timbered  park,  Perren,  the  keeper,  appeared 
in  sight.  "  Give  him  a  holloa,  Robson,"  said  our  hero  ; 
and  in  five  minutes  Perren  was  at  his  young  master's  side. 

"  Perren,"  said  he,  "  I  want  to  have  a  word  or  two  with 
you,  as  I  am  about  to  leave  home.  You  must  get  rid  of 
all  those  slow,  lumbering  pointers  of  yours,  and,  before 
next  August,  be  i^rovided  with  two  brace  of  down-charge 
setters,  and  a  brace  of  Newfoundland  retrievers,  for  I 
shall  be  in  Scotland  for  the  grousing  season." 

"  In  Scotland,  sir  !  "  exclaimed  the  keeper. 

"  Yes,"  answered  his  young  master, — strangely  altered, 
by-the-bye,  in  the  old  keeper's  eyes  since  that  time  last 
year.  "  Sir  John,  and  myself,  and  young  Lord  Dauntley, 
have  taken  a  shooting-ground  of  one  of  the  great  Scotch 
dukes,  for  which  we  are  to  pay  £400." 

"  But  the  setters,  sir,"  resumed  the  keeper  ;  "  right  good 
ones  are  very  difficult  to  get.  And  then  the  money  to  get 
'em  with." 

"  Oh  !  leave  that  to  me,"  continued  Frank. 

"  But  the  '  down-charge,^  sir.  I  reckon  we  shall  make 
a  bad  job  of  that,  sir  :  I  never  zead  a  down-charge  dog 
in  my  life,  though  I  have  beared  Sir  John's  keeper  speak- 
ing of  them." 

"  Oh  !  leave  that  to  me,"  was  once  more  the  clincher. 
"I  shall  send  them  into  Cheshire,  to  old  Potts,  the 
watchmaker,  who  breaks  them  for  ten  pounds  apiece." 

"  Ten  pounds  for  breaking  a  dog ! "  exclaimed  the 
keeper,  with  his  eyebrows  half-way  up  his  forehead,  and 
his  little  i^ig  eyes  opening  as  wide  as  he  could  stretch 
them.  "  Did  you  ever  hear  of  such  a  thing,  Mr.  Robson  ? 
— the  man  must  be  a  big  rogue." 


THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN        157 

"  Not  at  all,"  resumed  Frank ;  "  it  is  money  well  laid 
out.  Lord  Dauntley  tells  me  lie  can  bring  four  setters, 
broke  by  him,  into  the  field,  not  one  of  which  will  stir, 
after  the  bird  is  down,  till  called  by  its  name.  For 
example — if  Dash  makes  the  point,  Dash  is  the  first  on 
his  legs  again,  not  one  of  the  others  stirring  until  their 
names  are  called.  See  what  an  advantage  this  gives  you 
with  wounded  or  scattered  birds  I  He  refused  a  hundred 
guineas  for  the  two  brace  of  dogs." 

"  Well,  to  be  sure,"  observed  Perren,  "  his  lordship  has 
a  chance  to  get  his  money  back,  but " 

"  Oh  !  botheration  to  getting  the  money  back,  you  slow 
old  fool,"  said  our  hero.  "  Do  you  look  out  for  two  brace 
of  the  best  voung  setters  you  can  find,  and  leave  the  rest 
to  me." 

"  But  the  retrievers,  sir,"  resumed  the  keeper  ;  "  where 
shall  I " 

"  Oh  !  leave  them  to  me,"  was  the  young  Squire's  reply. 
"  Lord  Dauntley  has  recommended  me  to  a  dog-dealer  in 
London,  who  will  furnish  them  to  me,  but  I  suppose  I 
shall  have  to  pay  the  rascal  an  infernal  price  for  good 
ones." 

"  No  doubt,  sir,"  observed  the  keeper ;  "  and  M'ouldn't 
it  be  well,  sir,  first  of  all,  to  know  that  they  be  good  ones  ; 
for,  if  they  shouldn't  be  good,  I  doubt  you  would  have 
some  trouble  to  get  your  money  back  ? " 

"  Well,  leave  that  to  me,"  said  Frank  ;  "  look  you  to 
the  setters  ;  and  now  go  about  your  business  ;  but  don't 
come  home  without  at  least  three  couple  of  cocks,  as  I 
want  to  send  two  couple  to  London," 

The  keeper  touched  his  hat,  and  walked  off  ;  and,  just 
as  he  was  beginning  to  cogitate,  was  holloaed  back  by  his 
young  master,  who  thus  somewhat  imperiously  addressed 
him  : — 

"  Oh  !  Perren,  I  forgot  to  mention  one  thing  to  you.  I 
don't  think  I  shall  ever  be  really  fond  of  coursing.  In 
the  first  place,  it  is  too  slow  a  sport  for  me  ;  and,  in 
the  next,  I  think  it  breeds  petty  jealousies  amongst 
the  owners  of  dogs.  In  fact,  I  am  now  about  to  give 
a  proof  of  the  latter  objection.  I  am  determined  that 
leather-headed  parson,  Roberts,  shall  no  longer  be  the 
champion  of  our  coursing  meeting.  He  has  now  won 
the  cup  three  years  following,  but  he  must  have  a  check. 
Those  brindled  devils  of  his  will  not  be  hard  to  beat ; 


158        THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN 

therefore,  yoii  must  look  out  for  some  of  the  best  blood 
that  can  be  found." 

"  And  where  will  I  get  it,  sir  ? "  demanded  the  keeper  ; 
"  I  knows  nobody  that  has " 

"  Stop ;  never  mind  the  greyhounds,  you  may  leave 
them  to  me,  and  go  on  for  the  present  with  your  own 
mongrels,  who,  I  must  acknowledge,  seldom  miss  a  hare, 
although  they  all  run  foul,"  continued  our  hero  :  "  Lord 
Dauntley  will  be  the  man  to  apply  to,  as  he  is  a  member 
of  the  SwafFliam  meeting.  Only  mind  this,  I  am  deter- 
mined to  beat  that  old  parson,  cost  what  it  may." 

Exit  Mr.  Perren,  heaving  a  deep  sigh,  and  muttering  to 
himself — "  I  wish  all  this  may  end  well." 

I  have  yet  one  more  little  "  sign  of  the  times  "  to  pro- 
duce. The  following  day  was  a  hunting  day  with  Mr. 
Raby,  and  his  harriers  went  to  one  of  his  best  places  for 
sport.  One  of  Frank's  horses  went  with  them,  but  he 
himself  did  not  make  his  appearance  at  the  breakfast- 
table.  His  father  ordered  him  to  be  summoned,  and  his 
answer  was  this  : — 

"  Tell  my  father  I  have  ordered  Achilles  to  be  sent  to 
cover  with  the  hounds,  but,  as  I  have  got  a  bit  of  a  head- 
ache, I  shall  not  get  up  just  yet.  Tell  him  not  to  wait  for 
me  ;  I  will  follow  him." 

The  hour  of  meeting  being  ten,  the  harriers  had  one 
good  run  before  our  hero  made  his  apjDearance,  which  was 
at  the  comfortable,  and,  with  harriers,  now  usual  hour  of 
twelve.  And  when  he  did  arrive,  there  was  a  something 
in  his  manner  that  did  not  exactly  please  old  Dick. 

"  Where  is  Inkleton  ? "  said  he  to  his  father,  scarcely 
throwing  his  eye  over  the  pack.  At  all  events,  it  was  not 
— as  formerly — "  Here's  a  fine  morning,  Dick,  for  a  run  ! 
Yoicks  I  Bellman  and  Blossom,  you  beauties,  I  hope  you'll 
show  us  a  tickler  to-day." — No  ;  it  was  once  more — 
*'  Where  the  devil  is  Inkleton  ? — he  promised  to  be  here — 
but  to  be  sure  it's  early  yet — to  arrange  about  our  horses 
sleeping  out  to-night ;  and  also  about  ourselves  getting  to 
the  foxhounds  to-morrow.  It  is  one  of  their  most  distant 
covers,  thirty  miles  off  at  least,  but  I  would  not  miss  it  on 
any  consideration.  Confound  him,  I  wish  he  would  come, 
for  my  groom  is  waiting  at  the  Abbey  for  orders  to  send 
the  General  forward."  Inkleton  at  length  arrived  ;  and 
the  arrangements  to  go  to  cover  were  instantly  made,  after 
this  rather  comfortable  fashion — namely,  Frank  to  dine 


THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN        159 

with  his  friend  that  evening  ;  to  go  the  first  twelve  miles 
of  the  thirty  next  morning,  on  his  friend's  coach-box, 
behind  four  of  his  greys  ;  and  to  put  four  posters  to  the 
"drag,"  over  the  last  eighteen.  And  we  may  as  well  give 
the  events  of  the  day  at  once  ;  at  least  those  in  which  we 
are  concerned.  They  found  a  capital  fox  ;  and  on  seeing 
a  i^erson  play  a  solo  over  a  new,  stiff,  hog-backed,  oaken 
stile,  at  the  end  of  fifteen  miles,  point-blank,  and  over  a 
right  stiff  country  to  boot,  our  hero  made  him  an  offer  of 
200  guineas  for  his  horse,  which,  after  some  hesitation, 
was  accepted.  Sir  John  having  been  previously  consulted 
as  to  whence  the  200  were  to  be  forthcoming,  a  point  soon 
determined  upon,  Sir  John  making  use  of  an  expression 
rather  familiar  to  our  hero — namely,  "  Leave  that  to 
me."  In  fact.  Sir  John  said,  "  Let  the  horse  be  sent  to  my 
house  to-morrow,  and  I  will  advance  the  money,  and 
with  pleasure,  for  I  think  you  have  bought  a  right  good 
horse." 

But  we  must  "  Hark  back  "  to  the  harriers.  They  also 
found  a  capital  hare,  and  a  capital  run  was  the  result. 
Our  hero  not  only  took  the  lead,  but  frequently  pressed 
upon  the  hounds  ;  now  and  then,  indeed,  riding  abreast  of 
the  leading  ones,  regardless  of  old  Dick's — 

"  Pray  don't  press  upon  'em,  Mr.  Raby " — (it  was  no 
longer  "  Mr.  Francis  ") ;  on  the  contrary,  he  had  once  the 
satisfaction  of  hearing  him  exclaim — 

"Go  along,  you  yelping  curs;  get  from  under  my 
horse's  feet,  or  I'll  ride  over  you  !  " 

But  the  scent  was  so  good,  and  the  hounds  were  so  good, 
that  they  would  not  be  driven  off  the  line  ;  and  a  capital 
forty  minutes  to  Lord  Morton's  plantation  was  the  result, 
no  one  being  near  to  them  except  Frank  Raby  and  old 
Dick,  Sir  John  being  upon  a  hack.  But  I  have  not  done 
with  them  yet.  Seeing  Mr.  Raby,  as  he  called  him, 
putting  his  horse  straight  at  a  six-barred  white  gate,  into 
his  lordship's  plantation,  which  he  knew  was  always 
locked,  the  following  soliloquy  escaped  him  : — 

"  Surely  Mr.  Raby  ain't  agoing  to  jump  that  gate  !  He's 
over  it,  by  the  Lord  !  Well,  now  I  am  done  ;  I  never 
thought  I  should  have  seen  the  man  who  could  set  me 
with  these  hounds  ;  but  I  am  too  old,  and  so  is  Clodhopper, 
for  white  plantation  gates.  Well,  I  never  thought  I  should 
have  come  to  this." 

One  of  the  park  keepers  being  at  hand,  the  gate  was 


i6o        THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN 

opened,  and  the  first  thing  that  presented  itself  to  Dick, 
■was  our  hero,  who  had  jumped  some  very  high  paling, 
out  of  the  plantation,  into  the  park,  standing  on  his  feet 
in  the  middle  of  the  pack,  the  hare  lying  dead  in  their 
presence. 

"Well,  Mr.  Eaby,"  exclaimed  Dick,  on  approaching  his 
young  master,  and  within  hearing — with  a  sort  of  grin  on 
his  countenance,  which  I  believe  is  called  "laughing  on 
the  wrong  side  of  the  mouth  " — "  I  think,  sir,  you  needn't 
go  to  the  foxhounds,  when  you  can  see  such  a  run  as  this 
with  our  hounds.  And  what  a  horse,  to  be  sure,  is  that 
there  Ackillis  ! " 

"  He's  only  half  a  good  one,"  said  Frank. 

"  Make  so  bold,  Mr.  Raby,"  observed  Dick,  "  what  do 
you  call  a  ivhole  good  one  ? " 

"He  wants  a  turn  of  speed,  Dick,  as  your  old  Clod- 
hopper wants  a  turn  of  blood.  You  see  he  could  not  do  it 
at  the  last,  or  you  would  have  been  here  to  save  me  the 
trouble  of  keeping  your  hounds  at  bay." 

This  speech  was  "  daggers  to  the  soul "  of  poor  Dick, 
and  all  vestige  of  the  "  grin "  disappeared.  In  fact,  so 
dejected  was  he,  in  the  servants'  hall,  throughout  the 
evening — so  unusual  with  him  when  his  hounds  had  been 
showing  sport — that  he  Avas  more  than  once  asked  if  he 
were  not  ill. 

"  There  is  nothing  the  matter  with  me,"  was  his  reply  ; 
but  on  waking  from  a  bit  of  a  snooze  on  his  chair,  after 
two  extra  horns  of  ale,  he  was  heard  to  sing  out — 

"  Damn  that  white  plantation  gate  ! " 

It  might,  for  a  moment,  be  a  matter  of  surprise  in  what 
way  the  various  discussions  which  have  been  detailed, 
relating  to  the  schemes  and  speculations  of  the  young 
Squire,  reached  the  ears  of  his  parents  ;  but  when  it  is 
recollected  that  five  servants  on  the  establishment  were 
involved  in  them,  the  thing  is  easily  accounted  for. 

To  begin.  "  La,  Miss  Raby,"  said  her  maid,  when 
attending  her  in  her  bedroom,  the  next  night,  "what  do 
you  think  ? — we  shall  be  so  gay  at  Amstead  ;  Mr.  Francis 
is  going  to  keep  race-horses !  Oh,  how  I  do  love  a  race  ! 
Then,"  continued  the  Abigail,  "he  is  going  to  have  the 
finest  greyhounds  in  the  world,  and  we  are  all  to  go  to  the 
coursing  meeting,  to  see  him  win  the  cup.  But  I  haven't 
told  you  all  yet,  miss.  The  coachman  said  last  night,  in 
the  hall  (as 'the  servants'  hall  is  called),  that  you  was  no 


THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN        i6i 

longer  to  be  drawn  about  by  those  old  black  horses,  with 
long  tails,  only  fit  for  a  funeral ;  and  that  Mr.  Francis 
was  going  to  London  to  buy  four  blood  bays,  as  the 
coachman,  I  think,  called  them." 

"  I  don't  believe  it,  Sophy,"  said  Miss  Raby. 

"  It's  true,  upon  my  honour,  ma'am,"  resumed  the 
Abigail  ;  "  and  not  only  that,  but  you  are  to  have  a  new 
coach  as  well,  to  be  built  under  Mr,  Francis's  direction. 
And  I  suppose  you  have  heard  of  his  new  horse  ? " 

"  Xot  I,  indeed,"  was  the  reply. 

"  La,  miss  ;  why  he  bought  him  out  a  hunting  with  the 
foxhounds,  the  day  before  yesterday,  for  300  guineas,  and 
I  heard  Jack  "Wilson  ordered  by  his  groom  to  go  to  Sir 
John  Inkleton's  to  fetch  him  home  to-morrow." 

"  I  never  heard  a  word  of  it,"  said  the  young  lady. 

"  Nor  of  the  house  in  Scotland  neither,  miss  ? " 

"Not  a  word." 

"  Oh  1  he  has  taken  such  a  fine  house  ;  that  is,  it  is 
between  him,  Sir  John,  and  Lord  Dauntley,  I  think 
they  call  him  ;  and  they  are  to  give  £1000  a  year  for  it, 
to  shoot  grouse  and  stags  upon,  and  some  other  things, 
whose  names  I  can't  remember." 

"  You  astonish  me,  Sophy,"  said  Miss  Raby. 

"All,  as  true  as  the  Bible,  miss,  I  assure  you,"  resumed 
the  Abigail ;  "  all  the  servants  in  the  hall  know  it, 
and " 

"  But,  Sophy,  surely  Francis  must  be  mad,"  said  the 
sister  ;  "  whence  is  the  money  to  come,  to  do  all  this  ?  " 

"  Oh,  miss,"  replied  Sophy,  "  that  is  all  right.  The 
coachman  says,  he  will  be  bound  Mr.  Beaumont  has  given 
him  £10,000.  You  know,  Miss  Raby,  he  is  very  rich,  and 
how  fond  he  is  of  Mr.  Francis." 

"  I  know  my  uncle  is  fond  of  him,"  replied  Miss  Raby, 
"  and  that  he  is  rich  ;  but  he  is  not  so  fond  of  parting  with 
his  money,  Sophy,  as  all  that  comes  to.  And,  pray,  have 
you  heard  anything  else  of  my  brother  ?  You  really 
alarm  me,  Sophy  !  " 

"  Nothing  particular,  ma'am,"  answered  Sophy  ;  "  only 
they  were  saying  last  night,  in  the  hall,  that  Mr.  Francis 
was  going  to  make  strange  alterations  about  the  game  ; 
that  he  was  very  cross  with  old  Perren,  the  keeper,  about 
his  dogs,  because  they  would  not  charge;  that  he  gave 
Jack  Perren  half  a  guinea  for  licking  young  Mr.  Hall,  of 
the  Ashes,  because  he  called  him  proud — Mr.  Francis,  I 
II 


i62        THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN 

mean,  ma'am  ;  and  I  heard  old  Dick  tlie  huntsman  say  he 
thought  Mr.  Francis  wasn't  easy  in  his  mind  about  that 
lady  he  used  to  talk  so  much  about ;  for,  the  last  time  he 
was  out  with  our  hounds,  he  tried  to  break  his  neck  over 
a  new  white-painted  gate  in  Lord  Morton's  park." 

It  is  scarcely  necessary  to  say  that  every  word  of  this 
was  carefully  retailed  the  next  morning  to  Lady  Charlotte, 
by  her  daughter,  before  her  ladyship  broke  her  fast ;  and 
by  her  transferred  to  Mr.  Raby,  before  he  ate  his  dinner. 
Now  then  for  the  result. 

It  so  happened  that,  on  this  evening,  there  was  no  male 
stranger  guest  at  the  Abbey  ;  and  after  the  ladies  left  the 
dinner-room,  Mr.  Raby  and  his  only  son  were  left  by 
themselves,  over  a  bottle  of  Grifiiths's  port. 

"Well,  Frank,"  said  Mr.  Raby,  "although  by  Dick's 
account  you  have  got  too  fast  for  my  harriers,  I  find  you 
met  with  your  match  yesterday  with  the  foxhounds,  for 
I  hear  the  horses  were  all  very  much  beat." 

"They  were,  indeed,"  replied  Frank;  "in  short,  only 
one  horse  had  wind  left  in  him  to  leap  a  very  high  stile 
at  the  finish,  and  I  bought  him." 

"You  did  right,  Frank,"  said  the  father;  "that  is  to 
say,  if  you  bought  him  at  a  reasonable  price." 

"Two  hundred  was  the  price,"  said  our  hero. 

"  A  large  sum,  to  be  sure,"  observed  Mr.  Raby,  "  but  I 
suppose  a  horse  that  shows  such  superiority  at  the  end  of 
a  long  fox-chase,  commands  a  large  sum.  I  shall  order 
Robson  to  give  you  the  money  to-morrow,  or  perhaps  a 
check  on  my  banker  will  be  preferable,  as  you  will  have 
to  send  it  to  the  gentleman  by  the  post." 

"  The  gentleman  is  paid  for  the  liorse,  sir,"  said  Frank  : 
"  Sir  John  lent  me  the  money ;  but  now  we  are  on  the 
subject  of  money,  I  have  a  few  words  to  say  to  you,  and  a 
better  opportunity  may  not,  perhaps,  present  itself,  as  I 
am  going  from  home  to-morrow  for  a  week  or  ten  days. 
As  my  poor  elder  brother  is  now  no  longer  a  charge  upon 
you,  perhaps  you  will  have  the  kindness  to  increase 
my  allowance,  for  I  should  be  very  sorry  to  find  myself 
involved  in  debts  which  I  could  not  readily  pay." 

"I  am  glad  to  hear  you  say  so,"  replied  Mr.  Raby  ; 
"  as  for  myself,  I  never  had  the  courage  to  get  into  debt ; 
but,  Frank,  have  you  quite  abandoned  the  idea  of  going 
abroad  1  Your  uncle  is  very  anxious  that  you  should  go, 
and  I  must  say  I  am  not  a  little  so  myself." 


THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN        163 

*'  I  am  sorry  to  tliwart  the  wishes  of  either  yourself  or 
my  uncle,"  resumed  our  hero  ;  "  but,  upon  my  word,  I  do 
not  see  the  use  of  my  incurring  such  an  expense.  Besides, 
in  what  shall  I  be  better  for  visiting  foreign  countries, 
when  I  cannot  talk  or  understand  the  language  of  them. 
You  know  Doctor  Johnson  has  put  it  in  black  and  white 
— that  he  never  met  with  a  man  who  could  talk  a  whit 
the  better  for  having  been  abroad  ;  and  as  for  writing 
the  better  for  it,  I  do  not  suppose  my  scribbling  propensities 
will  ever  exceed  a  few  short  epistles  to  my  friends.  At 
the  same  time,  if  yourself  and  my  uncle  particularly  wish 
that  I  should  travel,  I  am  ready,  though  I  cannot  say 
willing,  to  make  the  required  sacrifice." 

"  We  will  drop  the  subject,"  said  the  father  ;  "  I  will 
never  ask  a  son  of  mine  to  do  that  which  I  perceive  he 
is  really  averse  to  ;  neither  is  it  a  point  so  near  to  my 
heart  as  to  that  of  your  Uncle  Beaumont,  for  reasons 
which  I  have  heard  him  give.  I  confess,  my  chief  desire 
is,  that  you  should  learn  to  fulfil  the  duties  of  a  country 
gentleman  and  large  landed  proprietor — not  a  few,  I 
assure  you — and  for  which,  perhaps,  England  may,  after 
all,  prove  the  best  school.  But,  Francis,  what  is  all  this 
I  have  heard  from  Lady  Charlotte  to-day  about  your 
going  to  keep  race-horses." 

"  Why,  sir,"  replied  our  hero,  somewhat  taken  aback  ; 
"  I  am  very  fond,  as  you  know,  of  the  animal,  horse,  and 
have  noticed  the  great  pleasure  my  friend  Dauntley  takes 
in  breeding.  I  was  just  asking  Kobson  yesterday,  as  I 
was  walking  with  him  in  the  park,  what  he  thought 
would  be  the  expense  of  a  few  paddocks  for  the  purpose  ; 
and  likewise,  if  you  did  not  object,  what  part  of  the  park 
would  be  the  fittest,  at  the  same  time  not  within  sight 
from  the  house." 

"  Paddocks  in  the  park,  my  dear  Frank  I  "  exclaimed 
Mr.  Eaby  ;  "  I  cannot  consent  to  anything  of  the  sort.  I 
should  be  sorry  to  see  the  pastoral  character  of  this  fine 
park  defiled  by  a  parcel  of  fiery-red  brick  walls.  Then 
you  quote  your  friend  Dauntley  as  a  precedent  for  this 
frolic  of  yours  !  You  must  bear  in  mind  that  Dauntley 
has  twice  as  many  thousands  a  year  as  you  have  hundreds, 
and  perhaps  you  have  no  ide^a  of  the  expense  of  a  breed- 
ing stud  on  ever  so  small  a  scale.  I  am  told  that  the 
annual  expense  of  a  mare,  including  her  produce,  exceeds 
a  hundred   pounds,    saying  nothing   of  the    chapter   of 


i64        THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN 

accidents,  and  the  probability  of  the  produce  not  being 
worth  as  many  shillings  after  another  hundred  have  been 
expended  upon  him.  In  fact,  it  is  asserted,  and  I  believe 
on  good  authority,  that  the  present  Lord  Grosvenor, 
although  a  winner  of  the  immense  sum  of  £200,000,  is 
still  a  loser  by  his  breeding  paddocks,  all  expenses  being 
reckoned.  Moreover,  Frank,  although  it  has  been  noted 
for  lovers  of  all  field  sports — indeed  your  Uncle  Beaumont 
and  poor  Andrew  are  the  only  exceptions  within  the  last 
200  years — the  name  of  Raby  has  never  yet  appeared  to 
a  race-horse  ;  nor  am  I  by  any  means  anxious  that  it 
should.  A  fox-hunter  you  may  be,  with  my  hearty 
approbation  ;  it  is  getting  to  the  top  branch  of  the  tree, 
although  I  had  not  the  nerve  to  ascend  so  high  ;  it  is 
there,  1  believe,  that  perfection  is  to  be  found.  But  I 
would  not  combine  the  pursuits  which  are  in  themselves 
so  opposite ;  it  would  resemble  the  mingling  of  garlands 
of  roses  with  the  poison  of  deadly  nightshade.  But  to 
the  point,  Frank  ;  I  will  increase  your  allowance  to  £800 
a  year,  paid  half-yearly  ;  I  will  pay  for  the  hunter  you 
have  just  bargained  for,  and  for  another  as  good,  if  you 
can  find  him  ;  and  then  I  should  imagine,  with  what  is 
vulgarly  termed  the  run  of  your  own  teeth,  and  those  of 
your  horses  and  servants  at  home,  when  you  wish  to  be  at 
home,  you  will  not  only  have  no  cause  for  complaint,  but 
be  enabled  to  make  as  good  an  appearance,  and  enjoy 
yourself  as  much  as  any  other  young  heir-apparent  in  this 
county,  or  the  next." 

Here  our  hero  nodded  assent,  and  afterwards  ac- 
knowledged the  kindness  of  his  father  in  commonplace 
words,  which  it  may  not  be  worth  while  to  repeat.  But 
a  bystander  would  have  observed  a  something  in  his 
manner  at  the  moment,  which  too  plainly  showed  the 
final  result  of  the  conversation  was  by  no  means  satis- 
factory. In  fact,  though  scotched,  the  snake  was  not 
killed,  and  Frank  said  within  himself,  "If  I  am  not 
permitted  to  breed  him,  I  am  determined  to  have  a  race- 
horse, before  I  am  much  older." 

Now,  as  it  has  been  my  desire  to  draw  a  portrait  of  Frank 
Raby  in  his  own  true  character — one  which,  on  the  whole, 
does  honour  to  our  nature — I  must  endeavour  not  only 
to  account  for,  but  to  smooth  down  this  too  apparent 
disregard  of  the  wishes  of  a  kind  and  indulgent  parent. 
The  real  truth,  then,  is  this,  startling  as  it  may  appear  : — 


THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN        165 

racing  has  been  represented,  and  justly,  in  my  opinion, 
to  be  a  stimulus  acting  powerfully  on  the  generous 
ambition  of  man,  prompting  him  to  personal  exertion, 
and  highly  exciting  to  superiority.  What,  then,  is  the 
result  ?  Why  that,  as  a  man  now  and  then  violates  his 
best  principles  for  a  woman,  he  now  and  then  violates 
them  for  a  horse.  Such,  it  appears,  had  been  the 
impression  made  on  Frank  Ra,by  by  his  late  intercourse 
with  Lord  Dauntley,  who  had  been  introduced  to  him  by 
his  friend  Goodall,  by  the  well-conducted  breeding 
establishment  that  he  had  formed,  together  with  his 
temporary  success— for  he  had  just  won  the  Oaks,  and  had 
run  second  for  the  St.  Leger — that  he  had  made  a  vow  to 
himself,  that,  before  he  was  three  years  older,  he  would 
win  a  Derby  or  an  Oaks,  if  money  or  management  could 
effect  it. 


CHAPTER    X 

Our  sportsman  has  now  entered  in  earnest  upon  his  life.  He  refuses 
a  seat  in  Parhament,  and  studies  his  craft  with  enthusiasm, 
opening  his  first  regular  hunting  campaign  with  the  Warwick- 
shire, under  the  celebrated  Mr.  Corbet,  and  the  Pji;chley, 
under  the  great  John  Warde. 

ON  his  return  to  the  Abbey,  after  a  week's  absence 
on  a   visit  to  his  friend  Lord  Dauntley,  he  found 
the  following  letter  from  his  uncle  : — 

"  Harley  Street,  January  10,  1802. 
"Dear  Frank, — As  I  do  not  expect  to  see  you  in 
town  till  the  hunting  season  closes,  I  write  to  inform 
you,  that  a  friend  of  mine  and  your  father  has  intimated 
to  me  his  intention  of  retiring  from  the  fatigues  of 
parliamentary  life  in  consequence  of  ill-health,  and  made 
an  offer  of  the  borough  to  me,  which,  being  a  close  one, 
he  has,  of  course,  the  power  to  do.  My  taking  it  is  out 
of  the  question  ;  but,  as  you  are  aware  it  was  very  much 
my  wish  that  your  poor  brother  should  have  been  in  the 
House,  and  the  voice  of  a  Raby  once  more  listened  to 
with  attention  within  its  walls — which  would  certainly 
have  been  the  case  if  that  wish  had  been  granted  me— 
I  am  particularly  desirous  thati/ow  should  accept  the  prof- 
fered boon.     It  will  be  an  excellent  introduction  into  life, 


i66        THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN 

and,  situated  as  you  now  are,  I  consider  it  little  short  of  a 
point  of  duty  that  you  should  avail  yourself  of  this  offer. 

"  I  fancy  that  I  may  be  met  with  some  objections  from 
yourself ;  indeed,  I  will  at  once  anticipate  them,  at  the 
same  time  endeavour  to  remove  them.  You  may  tell 
me,  you  have  no  oratorical  talent,  but  you  must  allow 
me  to  tell  you  what  you  have  been  before  told  {nascimur 
poetce,  fimus  oratores),  that  every  highly-educated  man  has 
it  in  his  power  to  speak  well.  To  become  a  perfect  orator, 
perhaps,  one  must  be  endued  by  nature  with  a  genius 
superior  to  the  bulk  of  mankind  ;  yet  pains  and  industry 
may  make  any  person  possessing  a  good  judgment  and 
ordinary  imagination,  a  tolerable  speaker,  especially  if 
he  set  about  improving  himself  when  young — by  making 
himself  master  of  the  great  events,  and  of  the  principal 
characters  which  are  handed  down  to  us  in  history,  and 
thus  laying  in  such  a  store  of  knowledge  as  will  be  ready 
at  hand  on  almost  all  occasions.  And  history  will  not 
only  furnish  you  with  the  best  materials  and  ground- 
work of  public  speaking,  but  it  will  also  furnish  you 
with  the  best  models.  To  imitate  the  brightest  examples, 
and  to  follow  the  steps  of  those  who  have  been  ornaments 
of  human  nature,  and  an  honour  to  their  country,  should 
be  the  study  and  desire  of  every  English  gentleman. 
Your  first  attempt  may  fail,  as  did  that  of  the  greatest 
orator  the  world  ever  saw ;  but,  like  him,  do  not  be 
discouraged  ;  and  remember  that  my  first  attempt  was 
crowned  with  complete  success.  The  effects  of  a  good 
classical  education  shine  brilliantly  when  least  expected, 
which,  I  believe  I  may  say,  was  my  own  case  :  a  scripture 
expression  has  weight  in  a  popular  assembly,  but  nothing 
impresses  so  strongly  as  a  highly  classical  allusion. 

"  As  to  the  line  of  conduct  you  may  choose  to  adopt — 
in  other  words,  as  to  which  side  of  the  House  you  may 
give  your  support — I  leave  that  to  your  own  discretion. 
My  own  politics  are  soon  told.  I  would  support  the 
rights  of  the  people  to  their  full  extent,  without  losing 
sight  of  the  principles  of  the  constitution,  and  my  duty 
to  my  king  and  country.  We  want  not  another  Theseus 
here,  who,  as  Aristotle  says,  '  parted  with  regal  power  for 
popular  favour  ; '  nor  would  I  recommend  you  to  press 
any  political  point  further  than  is  consonant  with  the 
general  sense  of  the  community.  And  here  I  speak  from 
what  I  have  read  or  seen.     If  any  state  has  happened  to 


THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN        167 

experience — to  whatever  cause  it  might  be  owing — a 
sudden  change  in  its  system  of  government  ;  if  an  altera- 
tion in  its  established  forms  has  been  brought  about  by 
means  which  were  uncalled  for,  it  has  almost  always  either 
relapsed  into  its  ancient  channel,  or  else  the  change  has 
been  attended  with  very  disastrous  circumstances. 

"  My  sermon  is  concluded.  Ponder  seriously,  my  dear 
nephew,  on  what  it  contains,  with  a  full  assurance  that 
it  is  intended  for  your  benefit,  and  qualify  yourself  for 
the  task  I  wish  you  to  perform.  Speech  being  the  faculty 
which  exalts  man  above  the  rest  of  the  creation,  we  must 
consider  eloquence  as  the  talent  which  gives  him  the  most 
distinguished  pre-eminence  over  his  own  species.  Study 
it,  then,  as  you  regard  the  wishes — I  may  say  more — 
the  desires  of — Your  affectionate  uncle, 

"  Beaumont  Raby." 

To  this  epistle,  our  hero  returned  the  following  reply  : — 

"  My  Dear  Uncle,— It  is  with  much  regret  that  I  find 
myself  compelled  to  decline  complying  with  any  wish  of 
yours,  particularly  with  one  so  earnestly  expressed  as  that 
which  is  the  subject  of  your  last  kind  letter.  But  the  fact 
is,  being  confident  that  my  enjoyment  of  life  is  one  of  the 
objects  most  near  to  your  heart,  I  have  less  compunction 
in  refusing  to  grant  your  present  request  than  I  should 
otherwise  feel.  I  have  more  than  one  objection  to  be- 
coming a  member  of  Parliament.  First,  on  the  score  of 
expense,  for,  as  it  is  my  wish  to  keep  not  less  than  six 
hunters  (I  have  four  now — my  father  has  just  made  me 
a  present  of  two),  and  I  mean  to  be  absent  from  home, 
in  some  of  the  best  hunting  countries,  during  the  winter, 
it  would  surely  involve  me  in  expenses  which  I  might 
not  be  able  to  meet,  for,  as  you  are  aware,  my  allowance 
from  my  father  is  only  £800  a  year.  Then,  again, 
of  what  use  should  I  be  in  Parliament,  with  my 
slender  experience  of  the  world,  and  no  knowledge  of 
business  beyond  adding  up  a  bill  1  I  suppose  I  might, 
if  called  upon,  make  a  tolerable  speech — that  is  to  say, 
if  it  were  on  a  subject  with  which  I  was  conversant;  and 
without  being  so,  the  tongue  of  a  Demosthenes  would  be 
useless.  But,  to  tell  you  the  truth,  I  am  not  so  much 
enamoured  as  yourself,  with  the  effects  of  fine  oratory  ; 
neither  do  I  think  it  is  altogether  necessary  to  dress  up 


i68        THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN 

the  new-born  occurrences  of  the  day  in  the  pompons  robe 
of  history.  Your  fine  talkers  always  remind  me  of  the 
fable  of  Narcissus — they  fall  in  love  with  their  own 
voices,  as  he  did  with  his  own  face.  Did  the  flaming 
speeches  or  strong  remonstrances  of  Demosthenes  (indeed, 
old  Juvenal  tells  us  he  had  better  have  remained  a  black- 
smith) banish  corruption  from  Athens  1  Did  what  is 
called  the  masterpiece  of  Cicero's  orations  prevent  the 
banishment  of  Milo,  or  his  invective  against  Antony 
destroy  the  power  of  that  tyrant  1  Was  not  He  '  who 
spake  as  never  man  spake,'  disregarded  and  persecuted 
to  death  by  the  multitude  ?  Can  human  elocution  perform 
what  divine  accom^Dlishments  and  assistance  were  not  able 
to  effect  ?  No,  uncle,  in  matters  of  common  life,  and  also 
in  the  House  of  Commons,  it  is  not  so  much  ichat  is  said, 
as  who  said  it,  that  has  weight.  In  short,  I  look  upon 
oratory  as  a  two-edged  weapon,  which  cuts  both  ways  ; 
and  if  my  scanty  knowledge  of  history  has  led  me  to 
a  right  conclusion,  it  is  much  to  be  doubted  whether  the 
gift  of  fine  speaking,  though  both  excellent  and  useful 
in  its  nature,  has  not  been  applied  in  such  a  manner  as 
to  do  more  harm  than  good.  Factious  demagogues,  in 
the  shape  of  fine  speakers,  have  too  often  led  the  multitude 
captive,  by  first  deceiving,  and  afterwards  plundering  and 
destroying  them.  I  have  now,  my  dear  uncle,  nothing 
more  to  say  on  this  subject  than  to  assure  you  that  it 
is  one  on  which  I  hope  you  will  not  press  me  further, 
inasmuch  as  it  gives  me  great  pain  to  dissent  from  your 
opinion,  or  thwart  your  wishes.  On  all  other  points,  I 
trust  you  will  find  me,  what  I  hope  you  have  hitherto 
found  me, — Your  affectionate  and  dutiful  nephew, 

"  Francis  Kaby. 
"Beaumont  Raby,  Esq.,  &c.  &c.  &c. 

"  P.S. — I  forgot  to  mention  one  more  objection  to  being 
in  Parliament.  The  House  meets  in  the  month  of 
February,  decidedly  the  best  month  in  the  year  for  fox- 
hunting!! Then  there  is  a  call  of  the  House,  perhaps,  just 
as  you  had  set  your  heart  on  some  favourite  fixtures. 
Dauntley  tells  me,  he  never  takes  up  a  newspaper  in 
the  hunting  season,  but  he  trembles  for  the  words — '  The 
Lords  summoned.' '"  ^ 

1  It  is  a  well-known  fact  that  on  two  celebrated  Meltonians 
requesting  to  be  exciised  sitting  on  a  committee  of  the  House, 


THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN        169 

As  may  be  imagined,  the  contents  of  tliis  letter,  as  far 
as  they  related  to  the  offer  of  the  borough,  and  the  hopes 
of  the  uncle  for  the  future  renown  of  his  nephew,  were 
by  no  means  agreeable  to  Mr.  Beaumont  Eaby  ;  but 
enough  has  been  said  of  his  character  to  make  it  apparent 
that  he  did  not  take  the  trouble  to  renew  his  solicitation 
by  letter.  In  mere  acknowledgment,  then,  of  our  hero's 
determination  to  refuse  the  proffered  boon,  he  thus 
expressed  himself  in  return : — 

"  Your  letter,  my  dear  Frank,  which  I  received  yester- 
day, was  to  me  rather  an  annoyance  than  a  matter  of 
surprise.  I  now  plainly  see  through  all  your  distant 
views ;  that  you  are  determined  to  be  a  sportsman,  and 
to  lead  a  country  life.  Well,  I  know  not  how  I  can 
blame  you  on  the  principle  of  Horace,  who,  with  his 
usual  good  discretion,  tells  us,  that  we  should  neither 
commend  our  own  tastes,  nor  censure  those  of  others  ; 
neither  will  I  blame  you,  provided  you  bear  in  mind  that 
the  alternate  pleasure  of  reading  and  recreation  is  the 
happy  privilege  of  retired  leisure.  That  you  will  descend 
so  low  in  the  scale  of  intellectual  beings,  whose  minds 
have  been  cultivated,  as  to  assume  the  character  of  the 
mere  sportsman,  I  cannot,  for  a  moment,  induce  myself 
to  suppose :  such  a  person  is  now  happily  becoming 
scarce  ;  and  the  badge  of  a  liberal  education  is  not,  as 
it  was  used  to  be,  all  at  once  thrown  aside.  Let  me, 
however,  as  you  are  about  to  launch  into  what  may  be 
called  promiscuous  society,  which  that  of  sportsmen  must 
generally  be  termed,  offer  to  your  notice  a  few  hints,  a 
close  attention  to  which  may  turn  to  your  account,  as 
you  pass  through  life. 

"Civility  and  good  breeding  are  generally  considered 
synonymous  terms,  but  they  are  not  such.  Good  breeding 
implies  civility,  but  civility  does  not  reciprocally  imply 
good  breeding.  Good  breeding  is  the  middle  point 
between  two  extremes, — between  flattery  and  sincerity. 
It  is  to  be  acquired  partly  by  a  knowledge  of  the  world, 
but  chiefly  by  keeping  good  company.  It  is,  I  admit, 
difficult  to  be  defined,  inasmuch  as  it  consists  in  a  fitness 
and  propriety  of  w^ords,  actions,  and  looks,  adapted  to  the 
variety  and  combination  of  persons,  places,  and   things  ; 

the  Speaker  observed,  that  he  believed  "the  month  of  February 
was  the  best  hunting  month  in  the  year." 


lyo        THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN 

but  it  covers  a  multitude  of  faults,  and,  to  a  certain  degree, 
supplies  the  want  of  virtues.  In  the  common  course  of 
life  it  is  invaluable,  keeping  people  within  the  bounds 
of  decency,  checking  familiarity,  and  restraining  excesses. 
It  is,  in  fact,  the  ornament  and  cement  of  social  life. 
Great  talents  make  a  man  famous  ;  learning  causes  him 
to  be  esteemed  :  but  it  is  good  breeding — which  is  some- 
thing more  than  an  accomplishment — that  alone  renders 
him  beloved.  We  will  talk  over  these  matters  when  you 
come  to  town,  which  I  suppose  you  will  do  in  the  spring, 
when  all  the  world  is  here  ;  and  till  then,  and  always, — 
I  remain,  your  affectionate  uncle, 

"  Beaumont  Kaby. 
"To  Francis  Eaby,  Esq." 

The  remainder  of  this  winter  passed  away  very 
agreeably  with  our  hero,  who  may  be  said  to  have  been 
qualifying  for  those  which  were  to  follow,  by  improving 
himself  in  riding  and  shooting,  and  in  all  the  other 
branches  of  what  may  be  called  "rural  education  and 
accomplishments."  Amongst  the  novelties,  however,  was  a 
prize-light,  of  which,  as  his  friend  Sir  John  Inkleton  was, 
to  a  certain  extent,  a  backer  of  one  of  the  men,  he  became  a 
spectator.  He,  however,  returned  from  the  spectacle  very 
little  gratified  ;  and,  despite  of  the  encomiums  bestowed 
upon  boxing  by  his  companion, — who  maintained  that  it 
preserved  the  vigour  and  characteristic  courage  of  the 
English  people,  which  had  raised  this  country  above  the 
other  nations  of  the  earth ;  that,  although  the  same  God 
who  made  man  rational  also  made  him  resentful,  it  was 
the  characteristic  of  Englishmen  to  be  resentful  of  insult 
only,  but  not  to  be  vindictive,  and  which  was  to  be 
attributed  to  the  same  cause,  also  reminding  his  young 
friend  of  the  splendid  encomium  on  boxing  in  "  Knight's 
Analysis  of  Taste,"  just  then  published, — agreed  with 
what  Cicero  had  said  of  the  gladiators,  namely,  that  the 
exhibition  satiated  whilst  it  lasted,  and  left  no  satisfaction 
in  the  reflection  of  it.  Inasmuch  as  this  was  the  first, 
so  it  was  the  last  of  these  exhibitions  which  Frank  Eaby 
attended  ;  but  by  way  of  showing  the  difference  in  the 
style  in  which  the  records  of  such  events  are  handed 
down,  I  subjoin  that  of  the  one  now  alluded  to.  Whether 
such  things  are  unworthy  of  a  memorial,  or  whether  the 
pen  which  perpetuates  them  is  debased,  is  not  for  me  to 


THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN        171 

determine,  but  the  improvement  in  the  style  in  which 
they  are  recorded  is  remarkable,  and  not,  I  should 
imagine,  to  be  excelled.  And  who  can  doubt  but  that 
this  adds  to  their  celebrity  ?  "  The  Athenians,"  says 
Sallust,  "were  clever  fellows,  but  they  owed  much  to 
their  historians,  who  made  them  as  clever  as  their  own 
wit  and  talent  could  represent  them," 

"  Harlston,  in  Norfolk,  July  30. — Yesterday,  in  the 
afternoon.  Slack  and  Pettit  met  and  fought.  At  the  first 
set-to,  Pettit  seized  Slack  by  the  throat,  and  held  him  up 
against  the  rails,  and  grained  him  so  much  as  to  make 
him  extremely  black.  This  continued  for  half  a  minute 
before  Slack  could  break  Pettit's  hold,  after  which,  for 
near  ten  minutes,  Pettit  kept  fighting  and  driving  hard 
at  Slack,  when  at  length  Slack  closed  with  his  antagonist, 
and  gave  him  a  very  severe  fall ;  after  that,  a  second  and 
third  ;  but  between  these  falls  Pettit  threw  Slack  twice 
off  the  stage,  and,  indeed,  Pettit  so  much  dreaded  Slack's 
falls,  that  he  ran  directly  at  his  hams,  and  tumbled  him 
down,  and  by  that  means  gave  Slack  an  opportunity  of 
making  the  falls  very  easy.  When  they  had  been  fighting 
eighteen  minutes,  the  odds  ran  against  Slack,  a  guinea  to 
a  shilling ;  whereas,  on  first  setting  out,  it  was  three  or 
four  to  one  on  his  head  ;  but  after  this  time  Slack 
shortened  Pettit  so  as  to  disable  him  from  running  and 
throwing  him  down  in  the  manner  he  had  done  before 
but  obliged  him  to  stand  to  close  fighting.  Slack  then 
closed  one  of  his  eyes,  and  beat  him  very  much  about 
the  face.  At  twenty  minutes  Pettit  grew  weaker,  Slack 
stronger.  This  was  occasioned  by  Slack's  straight  way 
of  fighting.  At  twenty-two  minutes,  the  best  judge 
allowed  Slack  to  have  the  advantage  over  Pettit  very 
considerably,  as  he  was  then  recovering  his  wind,  which 
was  owing  to  game.  When  they  had  boxed  twenty-four 
minutes  Pettit  threw  Slack  again  over  the  rails.  This, 
indeed.  Slack  suffered  him  to  do,  as  by  that  means  he 
fixed  a  blow  under  Pettit's  ribs,  that  hurt  him  much. 
Whilst  Slack  was  again  getting  upon  the  stage  (it  was  not 
half  a  minute  before  he  was  remounted),  Pettit  had  so 
much  the  fear  of  his  antagonist  before  his  eyes,  that  he 
walked  off  without  so  much  as  civilly  taking  leave  of  the 
spectators,  or  saying  anything  to  any  person.  This  the 
backers  call  rogueing  of  it,  for  it  is  generally  thought 
that  he  ran  away  full  strong.     The  whole  time  of  their 


172        THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN 

fighting  was  twenty-five  minutes  ;  and  this  morning  the 
battle  was  given  to  Slack,  who  drew  the  first  ten  guineas 
out  of  the  box.     Thus  ended  this  dreadful  combat.'' 

The  month  of  May  having  arrived,  our  hero  after  a 
fortnight's  good  sport  in  trout-fishing,  repaired  to  "  the 
great  city"  for  several  weighty  purposes.  One  was  to 
make  up  matters  with  his  uncle,  by  convincing  him, 
which  was  true,  that  he  had  no  business  in  Parliament ; 
another,  to  purchase  two  more  horses  at  Tattersall's ; 
and  here  he  was  guided  by  the  advice  of  one  able  to 
tender  it. 

"  Purchase  those,"  said  his  adviser,  "  which  have  been 
ridden  over  grass  countries,  such  as  Leicestershire  or 
Northamptonshire,  where  the  fences  are  high  and  wide, 
and  where  there  are  brooks.  Half  the  horses  called 
hunters  are  all  but  worthless  to  hard-riding  men,  by 
having  been  ridden  in  countries  where  the  fences  are 
chiefly  dead  hedges,  with  small  ditches  and  timber,  but 
no  strong,  live,  blackthorn  hedges,  which  horses  must 
push  through,  and  leap  a  wide  ditch  beyond  them  as  well, 
and  where  there  are  no  brooks  of  any  width,  many  of 
which,  indeed,  horses  can  walk  through." 

He  took  his  friend's  advice,  and  purchased  two  well- 
seasoned  geldings  that  had  had  many  a  hot  spirt  over  the 
deep  vale  of  Belvoir,  and  the  cream  of  the  Quorndon 
country,  and  at  the  moderate  price  of  300  guineas  for 
the  two. 

Epsom  and  Ascot  were  also  taken  in  their  turn,  and 
neither  of  them  without  their  impression  on  our  hero. 
When  contemplating  with  himself,  at  the  latter  place,  as 
to  the  means  by  which  he  could  put  his  resolves  into 
effect,  as  to  once  signalizing  himself  on  the  turf,  the 
following  rather  curious  coincidence  happened.  He  was 
thus  accosted  by  his  friend  Dauntley : — 

"I  have  a  word  to  say  to  you,  Raby,"  said  he.  "I 
have  just  heard  of  a  person  in  a  retired  part  of  Wales, — 
a  devilish  good  judge  of  racing,  mind  ye,  —  who  has 
two  two-year-old  fillies  of  his  own  breeding  (and  very 
well  bred  they  are)  to  sell,  and  both  are  in  the  next 
year's  Oaks.  He  will  take  400  guineas  for  them,  and  I 
strongly  recommend  you  to  purchase  them,  as  you  wish 
to  have  a  shy  at  the  turf.  At  all  events,  they  are 
dog-cheap." 

"Cheap  enough,  no  doubt,"  replied  Frank,  "but  I  must 


THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN        173 

look  out  for  the  money  before  I  open  my  mouth  wider. 
I  cannot  spare  such  a  sum  out  of  my  allowance." 

"  Certainly  not,"  replied  Lord  Dauntley  ;  "  but  I  will 
manage  that  part  of  the  affair.  I  will  lend  you  the 
money,  and  I  have  a  friend  who  will  let  the  fillies  run  in 
his  name,  and  they  can  go  to  my  trainer's,  or  any  other 
you  may  prefer." 

No  sooner  said  than  done.  The  fillies — and  very  clever 
ones  they  were — were  purchased,  and,  soon  after  the 
following  Christmas,  put  into  training  in  the  name  of 
Darkin,  but,  as  they  had  not  made  their  appearance  as 
two-year-olds,  were  not  even  named  in  the  betting.  In 
fact,  in  the  true  acceptation  of  the  term,  they  were  dark 
ones. 

Nothing  very  remarkable  occurred  to  our  hero  during 
his  stay  in  London,  which  did  not  exceed  six  weeks, 
although  he  was  very  far  from  being  idle.  In  addition  to 
the  purchase  of  the  two  hunters,  he  gave  orders  for  a 
comfortable  travelling  post-chaise  to  one  of  the  best 
builders  in  the  Acre,  and  furnished  his  saddle-room  with 
everything  wanting  for  his  stud.  He  also  purchased  two 
brace  of  greyhounds,  at  rather  a  high  figure,  which,  after 
having  defeated  the  parson's  famous  bitch,  Fly,  that  had 
been  the  terror  of  the  club  in  his  neighbourhood  for  two 
successive  years,  he  made  a  present  of  to  Perren,  having 
no  turn  for  coursing.  Having  then  replenished  his 
fishing-book  with  some  of  the  best  tackle  and  flies,  he 
took  leave  of  his  uncle,  whose  house  had  been  his  home 
during  his  visit,  his  uncle  taking  leave  of  him  in  nearly 
these  words  : — 

"  God  bless  you,  Frank  ;  I  wish  our  pursuits  were  more 
congenial ;  but  still,  although  they  are  as  wide  apart  as 
the  poles,  I  wish  you  to  excel  in  yours,  as  I  might  have 
excelled  in  mine,  but  for  a  constitutional  infirmity.  This," 
l)utting  a  £100  iDank-note  into  his  hand,  "  will  not  retard 
your  progress  ;  and  if  at  any  time  you  require  the  fellow 
to  it,  you  have  nothing  more  to  do  than  to  say  so. " 

The  month  of  August  found  our  hero  snugly  domiciled 
in  the  Highlands  of  Scotland,  on  the  shooting-ground 
engaged  by  Lord  Dauntley,  and  where,  with  the  accession 
of  another  friend  of  his  Lordship,  a  delightful  month  was 
passed.  The  return  of  the  game  killed  was  as  follows, 
which  was  not  amiss  for  that  period,  when  it  was  not  so 
abundant  as  at  present : — 


174        THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN 

Black'grouse,  seven  and  a  half  brace  ;  red  grouse,  eighty- 
five  brace ;  ptarmagan,  three  and  a  half  brace  ;  red  deer, 
seven  ;  and  roe,  thirteen. 

But  something  more  important  and  more  durable  than 
grouse  and  deer  was  the  result  of  this  excursion.  The  trio 
returned  to  England  with  their  nerves  braced,  ready  to 
crack,  by  the  exercise  upon,  and  the  breathing  the  air  of, 
the  truly  romantic  regions  of  the  north  ;  and  each  came 
to  the  resolution  that  the  excursion  should  be  repeated 
during  the  next  twenty  years,  should  life  and  health  be 
so  long  granted  to  them  to  enjoy  it,  for  this  was  true  en- 
joyment. Exclusive  of  the  actual  diversion  on  the  moors, 
everything  they  ate  was  delicious  ;  the  champagne  and 
claret  were  nectar  ;  their  beds  were  beds  of  roses  ;  but 
why  ?  Because  hunger  is  the  best  sauce  ;  exercise  refines 
the  palate,  and  gives  additional  goiU  to  wine ;  and  hard 
must  be  that  bed  on  which  sound  and  refreshing  sleep  is 
denied  to  the  man  who  has  had  a  good  day's  grouse-shoot- 
ing over  the  Scotch  hills,  or  those  of  any  other  country  on 
which  that  noble  game  is  to  be  found  !  There  was,  indeed, 
but  one  drawback  from  the  sum-total  of  happiness,  of 
which  this  party  were  partakers,  and  this  was — "the 
reckoning."  Including  the  rent  of  the  shooting-ground, 
it  amounted  to  nearly  £600,  to  be  divided  into  three  parts, 
our  hero's  j)roportion  being  rather  an  awkward  set-otf 
against  the  annual  amount  of  his  income,  which,  as  has 
been  already  stated,  did  not  exceed  £800.  To  the  others 
of  the  party  it  was  a  flea-bite. 

In  the  circle  of  British  sports,  fox-hunting  ever  must 
and  will  take  the  precedence  ;  and  towards  the  end  of 
October,  having,  up  to  that  period,  hunted  with  his 
father's  harriers,  and  satisfied  himself  of  the  efliciencj^  of 
his  stud,  Frank  Baby  determined  on  making  his  debut  as 
a  fox-hunter,  but  not  his  election  of  hounds  and  country, 
until  experience  of  some  of  the  best  of  them  had  fully 
enabled  him  to  decide  as  to  which  to  give  the  preference. 
Of  Oxfordshire  he  had  had  a  taste  during  his  residence  at 
Oxford,  and  this  was  the  opinion  he  had  formed  of  it : — 
the  hill  country  was  light  and  uncertain  with  regard  to 
scent,  but  a  clean  and  gentlemanlike  one  to  ride  over,  and 
contained  many  excellent  sportsmen.  The  vale  called  tlie 
Bicester  country  was  jDreferable ;  he  considered  it,  despite 
of  its  large  woods  on  one  side  of  it,  and  the  almost  fathom- 
less depth  of  its  soil  after  a  hard  frost  succeeded  by  rain, 


THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN        175 

what  may  be  termed  a  fox-hunting  country,  and  he  had 
seen  some  fine  runs  in  it.  A  criterion  of  the  strength  of 
it,  he  used  to  say,  might  be  ascertained  by  the  fact,  that 
not  only  did  the  Oxford  livery  stable-keepers  charge  a 
third  more  for  horses  ridden  over  it  by  the  gownsmen  than 
they  did  for  those  ridden  over  the  hill  country,  but  the 
calculation  of  falls,  by  the  riders  of  them,  was  in  the  pro- 
portion of  three  to  one  in  favour  of  the  vale  ;  that  is  to 
say,  there  were  three  falls  in  the  vale,  to  one  in  the  hill 
country.  But  the  Northamptonshire  side  of  the  country, 
he  used  to  say,  cannot  be  ridden  over  without  falls  by  a 
man  who  is  determined  to  be  with  hounds. 

There  was  likewise  another  country  which  he  had  had 
a  taste  of  when  at  Oxford,  and  that  was  what  was  called 
the  Vale  of  White  Horse,  adjoining  to  the  Craven  country  ; 
and,  although  in  the  county  of  Berks,  some  of  its  best 
covers  were  within  easy  reach  of  Oxford.  He  liked  parts 
of  that  country  much  ;  being  a  dairy  country,  it  abounded 
in  fine  large  grass  fields,  and  he  was  told  that  such  parts 
of  it  strongly  resembled  Leicestershire.  He  had  also  a 
regard  for  it,  on  another  consideration.  In  a  fine  run  from 
Pusey  Firs,  he  was  one  of  only  five  who  cleared  the  Rosey 
Brook,  himself  taking  the  lead  upon  Achilles,  although, 
as  somewhat  of  a  take  oft'  from  the  merit  of  it,  it  had  been 
leaped,  nearly  in  the  same  place,  by  Mr.  Barry  Price, 
upon  his  famous  horse  called  Monarch,  a  few  days  before 
— the  said  Mr.  Barry  Price  being  eighteen  stone  plum 
weight  in  the  scales.  But  the  Rosey  Brook  is,  in  most 
places,  a  very  serious  affair. 

Our  hero,  up  to  this  period,  had  had  but  a  slight  taste 
of  Warwickshire,  and  this  at  two  of  its  least  inviting  fix- 
tures ;  namely,  Wolford  Wood  and  Witchford  Wood, 
almost  the  only  two  covers  within  possible  reach  of  Ox- 
ford men  ;  roughish  places,  both  of  them,  but  often  hold- 
ing, as  most  rough  places  do,  very  capital  foxes.  But 
Frank  Raby  had  heard  enough  of  Warwickshire  to  induce 
him  to  make  it  his  election  for  his  dehut  on  the  fox- 
hunter's  stage,  so  sent  his  stud  to  Stratford-on-Avon,  the 
headquarters  of  the  Hunt ;  and  arrived  there  himself,  in 
his  travelling  chaise,  on  the  evening  of  the  fourth  of 
November,  anno  Domini,  1803. 

He  found  a  highly  finished  gentleman  at  the  head  of 
this  establishment,  in  the  person  of  Mr.  Corbet,  of  Sun- 
dorue    Castle,    Shropshire,    who    himself    sustained    the 


176        THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN 

expenses  of  it,  keeping  a  complement  of  hounds  and  horses 
for  four  days  a  week,  and  occasionally  a  fifth  ;  having  two 
kennels,  one  at  Stratford-on-Avon,  and  another  at  Minden, 
near  Coventry,  whence  the  country  called  "  The  Mereden  " 
was  hunted  at  two  difi'erent  periods  in  the  season,  but 
chiefly  in  the  spring,  for  which  it  is  eminently  adapted. 
He  soon  obtained  an  introduction  to  the  meml3ers  of  the 
Stratford  Hunt  Club,  whom  he  found  living  together  on 
the  best  j^ossible  terms  —  Mr.  Corbet  joining  them  at 
dinner  on  every  Thursday  in  the  week,  and  commonly 
entertaining  some  of  them  on  the  other  six  days.  He 
found  a  man  hunting  these  hounds,  whom,  although  he 
was  too  young  to  give  an  opinion  on  his  merits  as  a  hunts- 
man, he  pronounced  to  be  the  finest  horseman,  in  the  form 
of  a  servant,  he  had  ever  hitherto  seen  ;  and  it  was  told  of 
him  that,  during  his  service  with  that  eminent  sportsman, 
Mr,  Childe,  of  Kinlet  Hall,  in  Shropshire,  as  whipper-in, 
he  was  the  only  man  in  his  establishment  that  he  would 
eA'er  sufi'er  to  mount  the  horses  he  himself  rode.  His 
name  was  William  Barrow,  commonly  called  Will  Barrow, 
and  his  brother  Jack,  also  good  in  his  place,  acted  as  his 
first  whip.  He  saw  a  month's  very  good  sport  with  these 
hounds,  and  he  saw  some  right  good  sportsmen  in  the 
field  ;  but  what  surprised  him  most,  was  the  fact  that  the 
two  leading  men  over  this  strongly  fenced  and,  in  parts, 
very  deep  country,  weighed,  with  their  saddles,  good 
seventeen  stone.  The  name  of  these  eminent  horsemen 
and  sportsmen  was  Canning,  the  elder  possessing  a  large 
property  in  the  country,  and  the  younger  also  in  posses- 
sion of  a  very  considerable  income.  But  the  most  extra- 
ordinary pari  of  the  history  of  these  gentlemen  as  sports- 
men, is  the  fact  of  their  having — by  reason  of  being 
Catholics — been  educated  abroad,  and  never  seeing  a  fox- 
hound in  the  field  until  past  their  twenty-fifth  year.  The 
younger,  Mr.  Eobert  Canning,  was  the  finest  horseman  of 
the  two ;  but  their  knowledge  of  fox-hunting,  and  their 
judgment  in  riding  to  hounds,  were  not  inferior  to  those 
of  the  most  experienced  sportsman  of  the  day.  Mr. 
Hawkes,  so  celebrated  as  an  amateur  jockey,  and  a  con- 
spicuous man  with  Mr.  Meynell's  hounds  in  Leicester- 
shire, also  then  resided  in  Warwickshire,  and  was  occasion- 
ally seen,  and,  as  it  fell  out  at  this  identical  time,  by  our 
hero,  gallantly  crossing  its  large  grass  enclosures  on  his 
thorough-bred  nags,  delighted  with  the  cheering  voice  of 


THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN        177 

Will  Barrow  to  his  "  lasses,"  as  he  was  used  to  call  the 
bitch  pack  ;  and,  certainly,  no  human  voice  ever  exceeded 
his  in  a  view-halloo  or  a  cheer.     But 

"  \\Tiat  more  grateful  to  the  ear, 
Thau  the  voice  that  speaks  to  cheer  ? " 

There  was  another  very  remarkable  character,  in  the 
shape  of  a  sportsman  of  the  old  school,  residing  in  the 
town  of  Stratford,  but  a  member  of  the  Stratford  Hunt, 
and  an  intimate  friend  of  Mr.  Corbet.  His  name  was 
Stubbs  ;  and  so  insatiate  was  he  of  hunting,  that,  on  the 
vacant  days  of  the  foxhounds,  he  hunted  with  his  own 
harriers  ;  and,  indeed,  on  one  occasion,  on  a  Sunday,  when 
a  fox  broke  out  of  his  saddle- room,  during  divine  service. 
"  Saddle  the  dun  horse,"  said  he  to  his  man,  when  he  told 
him  ^^llat  had  happened,  and  he  immediately  put  his 
hounds  on  the  scent.  But  what  was  most  remarkable  in 
this  very  zealous  fox  -  hunter,  was  the  fact  that,  when 
hounds  ran  straight  across  a  country,  he  could  neither  see 
nor  hear  him,  as  he  could  not  persuade  himself  to  leap 
fences  ;  and  yet,  from  his  great  knowledge  of  the  country, 
he  was  generally  up  soon  after  the  finish,  whatever  that 
might  be,  Mr.  Corbet  also  surprised  our  hero  by  his  great 
dislike  to  fences,  which  he  found  it  difficult  to  reconcile 
with  the  enthusiasm  he  exhibited  in  the  chase  ;  he,  how- 
ever, by  being  mounted  on  very  speedy  horses,  and  not 
afraid  to  gallop  over  the  icorst  sort  of  ground,  saw  a  great 
deal  of  the  sport,  appearing  at  times  in  a  good  place  when 
very  little  expected.  And  Frank  Raby  took  a  leaf  out  of 
his  book,  as  regarded  his  hunters,  of  which  he  had  always 
a  score  of  a  very  good  sort.  He  purchased  them,  when 
foals,  from  his  tenants  and  other  farmers  in  Shropshire, 
which  county  has  always  been  celebrated  for  good  hunting 
blood. 

Our  hero's  opinion  of  Warwickshire  was  this.  He  found 
a  great  many  bad  fixtures  for  hounds  in  it,  although  it 
was  possible  that,  even  from  them,  by  taking  a  certain 
line,  a  fine  run,  over  a  fine  country,  was  on  the  cards. 
For  example,  he  went  one  morning  a  long  distance  to  a 
cover  which  was  in  bad  repute  with  the  Hunt,  and 
whence  he  was  told  he  had  scarcely  a  chance  of  a  run. 
The  fox  led  him  over  twelve  miles  of  country,  at  the  very 
best  pace,  with  only  one  ploughed  field  by*^  the  way,  no 
river  to  cross,  and  only  two  brooks,  and  those  not  serious 
12 


178        THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN 

ones  I  But  lie  found  some  parts  of  the  country  whicli 
could  not  be  excelled  anywhere — and  these  to"^  a  large 
extent  ;  and  that  part  which  was  not  good  had  this 
redeeming  quality  : — a  blank  day  in  AVarwickshire,  at 
this  time,  was  as  rare  as  a  black  swan  in  all  other 
countries. 

After  a  month's  sojourn  in  Warwickshire,  where  he 
received  some  kind  attention  from  several  of  the  principal 
families,  which  his  name  and  connections  might  have 
insured  him,  he  took  his  departure  for  Northampton,  and 
became  domiciled  at  the  George  Inn,  in  the  county  town, 
one  of  the  most  comfortable  in  England.  The  country — 
the  word  county  is  obsolete,  in  alluding  to  hunting 
districts — was  then  occupied  by  Mr.  Warde,  whose  kennel 
was  at  Pytchley,  where  the  club  was  also  established. 
This  was  a  fortunate  circumstance  for  our  hero,  inasmuch 
as  it  gave  him  an  opportunity  of  witnessing  the  proceed- 
ings of  what  may  be  termed  the  second  great  sportsman 
of  that  day — the  immortal  Meynell,  although  at  that 
time  about  to  retire  from  the  field,  being  the  first.  He 
was  much  struck  with  the  peculiar  character  of  the 
hounds,  combining  gigantic  limbs  and  extraordinary 
height  and  strength,  with  high  form  and  symmetry  ;  and 
their  steadiness  in  chase  was  also  at  once  conspicuous. 
The  turn-out,  however,  w^as  not  equal  to  Mr.  Corbet's. 
There  was  something  like  an  affected  disregard  of  appear- 
ances in  the  costume  of  the  men,  and  the  horses  were 
of  a  coarser  description.  Still  it  was  altogether  sports- 
manlike, for  a  sportsman  was  at  the  head  of  the  establish- 
ment. 

Our  hero  regretted  that  he  was  a  few  years  too  late  in 
his  visit  to  this  country,  by  which  he  lost  an  opportunity 
not  likely  to  return  :  this  was,  of  seeing  the  celebrated 
Dick  Knight,  huntsman  to  Lord  Spencer,  who  formerly 
hunted  the  country  ;  and  whose  portrait,  from  the  pencil 
of  Mr.  Loraine  Smith,  had  helped  to  adorn  the  walls  of 
his  room  in  Christchurch  College.  His  noble  master, 
however,  he  had  the  pleasure  of  meeting  in  the  field,  and 
seeing  him  keep  a  very  good  place  in  the  run  of  an  hour 
and  twenty  minutes,  from  Winnick  Warren,  a  cover  on 
the  Daventry  side  the  country  ;  his  Lordship's  son,  then 
Lord  Althorp,  who  afterwards  hunted  the  country,  also 
being  one  who  saw  the  finish  and  the  death.  But,  until 
Frank  Baby  met  Mr.  Warde's  hounds  at  a  cover  in  the 


THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN        179 

Crick  country,  he  never  knew  the  extent  to  which  the 
man  who  rides  after  hounds  is  opposed  in  his  attempts 
to  go  straight.  Although  mounted  on  the  General,  one 
of  the  finest  fencers  in  England — at  least  in  the  parts  of 
England  in  which  he  had  previously  been  hunted — he 
got  three  falls  in  little  more  than  as  many  miles,  and 
lamented  that  it  had  not  been  the  turn  of  one  of  his 
newly  purchased  horses  to  have  carried  him  on  that  day, 
as  they  were  more  accustomed  than  the  General  to  make 
their  way  through  the  enormous  blackthorn  hedges — to 
say  nothing  of  the  ditches,  brooks,  and  timber,  with  which 
this  part  of  Xorthamptonshire  abounds.  Frank,  however, 
left  the  country  very  highly  enamoured  of  it.  It  appeared 
to  him  to  leave  both  Oxfordshire  and  Warwickshire  very 
far  in  the  shade,  and  he  nearly  despaired — not  but  that 
there  are  some  rough  fixtures  in  Northamptonshire — of 
ever  seeing  a  better.  In  fact,  when  he  was  told  that 
there  were  woodlands  in  it,  near  to  the  town  of  Kettering, 
the  property  of  the  Duke  of  Buccleugh,  in  which  were 
seventy  miles  of  finely  rideable  avenues,  from  which 
hounds  could  never  be  out  of  sight  of  the  men,  for  the 
purposes  of  cub  and  spring  hunting,  he  seemed  to  make 
up  his  mind  that,  taken  for  all  in  all,  Northami^tonshire 
as  a  hunting  country  could  not  he  much  excelled. 

As  may  be  imagined,  for  it  is  particularly  the  case  with 
young  sportsmen,  our  hero  noticed  the  best  horsemen  in 
each  country  he  visited,  and  those  of  Northamptonshire 
did  not  escape  his  rather  discerning  eye.  Mr.  Warde 
never  shone  as  a  rider  ;  that  is,  he  was  not,  even  in  those 
days,  what  is  called  a  fast  man  over  the  country  ;  nor, 
indeed,  have  there  been  more  than  a  dozen  "  fast  men  " 
of  his  weight  since  the  world  was  created  ;  but  his  two 
brothers  went  well  :  Harry  Warde,  as  he  was  called  (after- 
wards General  Sir  Harry),  in  particular,  quite  tip-top  ; 
and  what  very  much  surprised  the  "  young  one,"  was  the 
fact  of  his  very  best  horse  being  a  roarer.  Then  there 
was  one  man  in  the  throng,  to  whose  horsemanship  rather 
a  far-fetched  ejDithet  might  be  applied  ;  it  was  heautiful. 
I  allude  to  Mr.  Davy,  who  has  hunted  in  Northampton- 
shire, I  believe,  ever  since  ;  and,  as  somewhat  of  a  strange 
coincidence,  there  was  a  singular  defect  in  his  best  horse. 
He  had  but  half  an  eye,  having  quite  lost  the  sight  of 
one,  and  a  cataract  was  formed  over  part  of  the  pupil  of 
the  other.     He  called  him  Skylark,  and  a  brilliant  hunter 


i8o       THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN 

he  was.  There  was  something  aristocratic  in  the  names 
of  these  horses — that  of  the  first  being  ^tar,  and  the  other 
Skylark.  And,  liy  the  way,  Frank  Eaby  heard  an  extra- 
ordinary fact  related  of  this  elegant  horseman,  Mr.  Davy. 
He  got  a  fall  in  Oxfordshire,  and  was  thrown  beyond  his 
horse's  head,  to  the  ground.  On  looking  back  for  his 
horse,  he  was  no7i  est  inventus.  He  had  fallen  back  into 
an  old,  deep  well,  the  covering  of  which  had  given  way 
under  him,  as  he  leaped  on  it. 

Raby,  for  it  may  be  as  well  now,  sometimes,  to  drop 
the  Frank,  had  the  pleasure  of  dining  several  times  at 
the  club — the  famous  Pytchley  Club,  of  which  so  much 
has  been  heard  and  said.  Nothing  could  be  more  agree- 
able, and  so  Mr.  Warde  himself  said. — "All  very  well 
but  the  reckoning,"  was  the  praise  he  always  bestowed 
upon  it.  But  Mr.  Warde  himself  added  prodigiously  to 
the  agreeableness  of  this  club,  and  the  high  social  feeling 
that  pervaded  all  the  members  of  it.  And,  as  regarded 
our  hero,  he  was  thus  heard,  on  one  occasion,  to  express 
himself  : — 

"  This  young  Raby  is  a  promising  lad  ;  I  think  he  M'ill 
do,  in  time,  especially  if  he  stays  with  us  for  a  season  or 
two.  I  saw  him  out  once,  when  a  schoolboy,  in  the  last 
country  I  hunted,  and  devilish  well  he  went.  His  father 
is  a  hare-hunter,  but  the  young  one  won't  have  that ; 
he  flies  at  higher  game  ;  and,  as  he  will  be  well  breeched 
some  day — for,  independent  of  his  father,  they  tell  me  he 
has  a  rich  uncle,  likely  to  choke  in  his  collar,  who  will 
leave  him  lots  of  the  ready — I  should  not  be  surprised  to 
see  him  one  of  us,  in  another  sense.  He  has  asked  me  a 
great  many  questions  about  hounds,  the  breeding  them, 
&c.,  to  which  I  have  generally  replied,  '  Keep  mine  in 
your  eye,  sir,  and  you  will  do  well,  should  you  have  a 
pack  of  your  own,  which  no  doubt  you  will,  when  one  of 
the  old  ones  goes  to  ground.'  He  has  also  a  great  mind  to 
be  a  coachman,  which  Inkleton  has  given  him  a  taste  for. 
I  told  him  to  go  to  Jack  Bailey,  of  the  Birmingham 
'Prince  of  Wales'  coach,  for  instruction,  when  he  told 
me  he  was  his  pupil  when  at  Eton.  '  Then  you  will  do,' 
said  I ;  *  Jack  himself  is  a  pattern-card  for  patience  and 
prudence,  having  need  of  both  ;  for  heavy  loads  and  weak 
horses,  on  bad  roads,  have  made  him  such.  In  short,  he 
is  a  coachman  ;  and  I  advise  you,  if  you  mean  to  get 
upon  your  own  box,  to  take  as  many  leaves  as  you  can 


THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN        i8i 

out  of  his  book.  It  will  be  worth  all  the  Greek  an  1 
Latin  you  brought  with  you  from  Eton.' " 

So  much  for  the  Pytchley  Hunt  of  those  days.     Not  only 

"  Those  joyous  hours  are  passed  away, 
And  many  a  heart  that  then  was  gay," 

has  long  since  ceased  to  beat,  but  the  master  of  the 
pack,  after  a  stout  struggle,  has  been  obliged  to  yield  to 
that  common  destiny  of  our  nature,  which,  sooner  or 
later,  awaits  us  all.  Peace  to  his  ashes  ;  his  system  and 
himself  are  gone  together. 

During  his  stay,  our  young  sportsman  had  one  day 
with  the  well-known  pack  of  the  late  justly  celebrated 
Lord  Fitzwilliam,  whose  extensive  country  embraced 
parts  of  Xorthamptonshire  and  all  Huntingdonshire, 
besides  the  Yorkshire  woodlands  for  cub-hunting.  The 
fixture  was  Stanwick  Pastures,  one  of  great  note,  but  far 
from  being  one  of  the  best.  The  scene,  however,  was 
such  as  amused  our  hero  much,  since,  from  being  within 
reach  of  Cambridge,  it  reminded  him  of  olden  times.  In 
one  direction  were  to  be  seen  knocked-up  hacks,  broken- 
down  tandems,  with  the  leaders  scarcely  able  to  make  a 
walk  of  it,  from  the  flankings  they  had  received  from  their 
rather  merciless  drivers,  in  their  anxiety  to  display  their 
art ;  in  another,  four  or  five  of  the  better  sort  of  college 
sportsmen,  whose  finances  had  allowed  of  their  sending 
hacks  forward  overnight,  coming  along  at  a  good  cover-hack 
pace,  without  showing  distress  ;  while,  just  as  the  fox  was 
found,  up  drove  a  post-chaise,  at  a  gallop,  with  three  red- 
coats inside,  and  two  on  the  bar  !  One  or  two  of  these 
aspirants  were  well  known  to  Frank  Raby,  and  amongst 
the  lot — quite  as  many  as  could  be  expected — four  or  five 
of  them  rode  well  and  judiciously  to  the  hounds,  through- 
out a  really  good  run  of  an  hour  over  a  right  stiff  country. 

Young  Raby's  next  move  was  to  Leicester,  where  he 
took  up  his  abode  at  the  "Three  Crowns  Inn,"  the 
principal  one  of  that  day,  and  about  as  bad  as  most 
country  inns  of  that  day  Avere  found  to  be.  On  his  road, 
in  his  travelling  carriage,  he  amused  himself  by  booking 
a  few  of  Mr.  Warde's  sayings  and  hints,  amongst  which 
were  the  following  : — 

"  Half  the  goodness  of  a  horse  goes  in  at  his  mouth. 

"  Never  buy  a  horse  from  a  rich  man  who  hunts ;  or 
from  a  poor  man,  till  you  have  tried  him. 


i82        THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN 

"  Never  believe  a  word  any  man  says  about  a  horse  lie 
wisbes  to  sell — not  even  a  bishop. 

"  Never  keep  a  drinking  man,  nor  a  very  pretty  maid- 
servant. 

"  Never  refuse  a  good  dinner  from  home,  unless  you 
have  a  better  at  home. 

"  Breed  your  hounds  with  bone  and  nose  :  without  the 
one  they  will  tire  ;  without  the  other,  become  slack." 


CHAPTER  XI 

The  debut  in  Leicestershire — Frank  Raby  hunts  with  the  Quorn 
under  Lord  Sefton,  with  Lord  Lonsdale's,  and  with  the  Duke 
of  Rutland's  hounds. 

THE  fixture  for  the  Quorn  hounds,  then  lately  become 
the  property  of  Lord  Sefton,  being  very  distant  from 
Leicester,  Frank  Raby  had  a  day  to  dispose  of,  and  occu- 
pied it  in  a  visit  to  Quorn,  for  the  purpose  of  looking 
over  the  establishment,  and  much  as  his  expectations  had 
been  excited,  the  reality  very  much  exceeded  them.  He 
found  more  than  sixty  couples  of  working  hounds  in  the 
kennel,  exclusive  of  the  pack  that  day  in  the  field,  and 
they  were  shown  to  him  by  John  Raven,  one  of  his  Lord- 
ship's huntsmen — Stephen  Goodall,  the  other  huntsman, 
being  at  work  on  that  day.  Then,  in  one  stable  he  saw 
twenty-eight  hunters,  all  in  the  finest  condition,  the 
building  being  so  contrived  that  each  horse  could  be  seen 
from  his  head  to  his  tail  by  a  person  standing  in  the 
centre  of  it.  In  the  boxes,  he  saw  some  of  his  Lordship's 
best  horses  —  Plato,  Rowland,  and  Gooseberry  amongst 
them,  which  cost  little  less  than  1000  guineas  apiece — 
and  they  excited  his  admiration,  not  onl.v  by  their  high 
form,  but  by  their  condition,  which  equalled  everything 
that  Mr.  Somerby  had  told  him  of  it  during  his  visit  to 
Amstead,  and  to  which  we  have  already  alluded.  They 
were  shown  to  him  by  Mr.  Potter,  his  Lordship's  head 
groom,  who  told  him  that  "every  gentleman's  hunters 
might  be  in  as  good  condition  as  Lord  Sefton's  were,  pro- 
vided they  were  similarly  treated,  and  not  turned  out  to 
grass  in  the  summer." 

There  being  no  one  about  the  house  but  servants,  Frank 


THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN        183 

Kaby  ventured  to  walk  through  the  grounds  of  Quorndon 
Hall  (for  such  is  the  name  of  this  celebrated  hunting-box), 
celebrated  as  having  been  the  property  and  residence  of 
Mr.  Meynell,  and  purchased  of  him  by  Lord  Sefton — and 
found  it  exactly  what  Mr.  Somerby  had  represented  it  to 
be  ;  namely,  a  complete  residence  for  a  sportsman,  afford- 
ing all  necessary  accommodation,  though  divested  of  un- 
necessary ornament,  and  pretending  to  nothing  beyond 
the  residence  of  a  quiet  country  gentleman.  The  grounds, 
however,  he  found  rather  prettily  laid  out,  having  the 
advantage  of  the  river  Soar  running  through  them  ;  not 
that  there  is  much  to  admire  beyond  the  fact  of  its  being 
water — which  makes  all  scenery  agreeable — in  the  still  and 
even  flow  of  a  deep  Leicestershire  stream. 

The  next  day  to  this  was  one  of  intense  interest  to  our 
hero,  who  was  to  make  his  first  appearance  with  hounds 
in  Leicestershire,  having  been  informed  by  a  letter  from 
Mr.  Somerby,  that  he  had  taken  stables  and  apartments 
for  him  at  Melton  Mowbray,  and  that  he  should  have  much 
pleasure  in  paving  the  way  to  his  arrival  thither,  by  intro- 
ducing him  to  some  of  the  leading  characters  of  the  Quorn, 
and  also  of  the  neighbouring  hunts.  He  felt  a  buoyancy  of 
heart  almost  inexpressible  on  the  occasion  ;  in  fact,  he 
never  before  felt  it  beat  so  high,  for,  although  fearless 
in  his  person,  he  could  not  divest  himself  of  the  notion 
that  riding  to  hounds  over  Leicestershire,  and  amongst 
Leicestershire  men,  was  something  very  different  to  what 
he  had  hitherto  seen  it  in  what  Leicestershire  men  call 
the  "  provincials."  His  master-])assion,  however,  was  well 
roused  on  the  occasion,  and,  without  indulging  himself  in 
the  absurdity  of  being  able  to  "  dare  impossibilities,"  was 
determined  to  do  his  best. 

The  fixture  was  Cream  Lodge  Gorse,  in  the  townshi]^  of 
Great  Dalby,  and  no  misnomer  either,  forasmuch  as  it  is 
in  the  cream  of  the  Quorn  country  ;  and  a  horse  called 
Gentleman,  one  of  the  two  purchased  at  Tattersall's,  was 
sent  forward  by  our  young  sportsman  for  the  occasion,  he 
himself  following  on  his  hack,  his  carriage  having  been 
despatched  to  Melton  with  his  luggage.  On  his  arrival  at 
the  cover,  he  was  immediately  met  by  Mr.  Somerby,  and, 
in  the  course  of  the  day,  introduced  by  him  to  the  follow- 
ing leading  characters  of  those  truly  sporting  days  : — 

To  Lord  Sefton,  of  course,  as  master  of  the  hounds,  and 
also  to  Mr.  Meynell,  who,  although  no  longer  a  master, 


i84        THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN 

was  in  the  field  ;  to  the  Lords  Villieis,  Maynard,  Charles 
Somerset,  Craven,  and  loley  ;  to  the  Honourable  George 
Germaine,  the  Honourable  Robert  Grosvenor,  the  Honour- 
able Joshua  Vanneck,  the  Honourable  Berkeley  Craven, 
and  the  Honourable  Martin  Hawke  ;  to  Sirs  John  Shelley, 
Robert  Langley,  Henry  Peyton,  and  Stephen  Glynne  ;  to 
Messieurs  Cecil  Forester,  Thomas  Cholmondeley,  Loraine 
Smith,  Childe  of  Kinlet,  Charles  Meynell,  Harvey  Aston, 
John  Musters,  Thomas  Assheton  Smith,  Lindon,  Langton, 
John  Hawkes,  John  Lochley,  and  Jacob  Wardell. 

But  he  was  nearly  lost  in  admiration  at  the  splendid 
sight  that  presented  itself.  In  addition  to  the  gratifica- 
tion of  seeing  what  was  considered  the  crack  pack  of  fox- 
hounds of  all  Europe,  in  the  crack  country,  with  John 
Raven  as  their  huntsman,  of  whom  he  had  heard  such  a 
character  from  Mr.  Somerby,  together  with  the  above- 
named  galaxy  of  sportsmen,  and  at  least  150  well- 
mounted  men  besides,  several  of  whom  were  eminent  men 
in  this  line — indejDendently  of  all  this,  I  say,  he  saw  no 
less  than  six  sj^lendid  teams — the  noble  master's  amongst 
them — that  had  been  driven  to  cover  by  their  owners,  as 
was  very  much  the  fashion  of  those  highly  aristocratic, 
as  well  as  "truly  sporting  days."  And  why  should  I 
not  name  them  ?  They  were  the  teams  of  Lords  Sefton 
and  Foley  ;  of  the  Honourable  Martin  Hawke  ;  of  Sirs 
Henry  Peyton  and  Stephen  Glynne  ;  and  of  Mr.  Harvey 
Aston.  In  fact,  he  had  now  before  his  eyes,  what  were, 
in  those  days,  popularly  considered,  hounds,  horses,  men, 
and  country  not  to  be  equalled  in  any  j^art  of  the  world, 
and  that,  it  must  be  allowed,  is  saying  a  great  deal. 

Although  foxes  in  Leicestershire  were  not  at  this  time 
so  plentiful  as  they  are  at  present,  the  amount  of  noses  on 
the  Quorn  kennel  door  averaging  little  more  than  fifty 
brace,  and  this  with,  perhaps,  the  best  hounds  in  England, 
— a  smart  little  empty  vixen  went  gallantly  away  from 
Cream  Gorse  this  morning,  in  less  than  ten  minutes  after 
the  pack  were  thrown  into  it,  and  none  the  slower  for  one 
of  John  Raven's  thrilling  view-halloos  as  she  crept  out  of 
the  gorse  nearly  under  his  own  horse's  feet.  ^^  Possunt, 
quia  posse  videntur,^^  being  the  Leicestershire  men's  motto, 
they  only  waited  for  some  part  of  the  hounds  to  get  upon 
the  scent  before  they  were  all  at  their  speed,  determined 
to  be  with  them,  let  whatever  might  oppose  them  ;  in 
other  words,  to  go  till  they  fell,  or  their  horses  could  no 


THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN        185 

longer  go.  And  this  was  the  way  in  which  they  did  go, 
at  least  such  of  them  as  came  under  the  notice  of  our  hero, 
who  thus  noted  them  in  his  book,  and  sent  a  copy  of  his 
remarks  to  Sir  John  : — 

"Jacob  Wardell,  on  a  weedy  thorough-bred  one,  looking 
nearly  a,s  fit  to  be  carried  by,  as  to  carry  his  rider,  with  a 
hooked  stick  in  his  right  hand,  one  end  of  it  resting  on 
his  shoulder,  and  his  own  head  nearly  as  high  as  the  top 
of  it,  went  away  with  the  lead  at  a  jjace  that  could  scarcely 
be  maintained  on  a  race-course,  still  less  over  ridge  and 
furrowed  grass  land,  on  a  stiff  clay  bottom  ;  and,  although 
he  held  the  lead  gallantly  for  the  first  four  fields,  was  at 
length  laid  flat  on  his  back  in  a  wide,  broad  ditch,  and 
leaped  over,  as  he  lay  there,  by  Forester,  and  three  more 
whose  persons  I  could  not  distinguish,  being  a  good  land's 
length  in  the  rear  of  them.  By  a  lucky  turn  in  my  favour, 
however,  I  soon  got  alongside  them,  and  found  them  to 
be  Lord  Villiers  on  one  of  his  two  famous  black  horses 
that  Mr.  Somerby  had  told  me  of,  Mr.  Childe,  Mr. 
Cholmondeley,  and  Mr.  Smith,  Mr.  Germaine  and  Mr. 
Musters  lying  a  little  to  their  left.  I  was  delighted  to 
find  myself  in  such  company,  but  fearing  I  should  soon  be 
cut  by  them,  as  we  used  to  say  at  Eton,  and  recollecting 
an  aphorism  of  Egerton's,  that  example  is  the  best  in- 
structor, I  determined  on  endeavouring  to  follow  Mr. 
Forester  so  long  as  my  horse  enabled  me  to  do  so.  And 
now  for  the  result,  which  I  could  not  have  believed  prior 
to  the  experience  of  it.  When,  at  about  half  a  field's 
distance  from  him,  I  saw  him  take  each  fence  as  it  came, 
I  repeatedly  said  within  myself,  that's  nothing  at  all 
events — adding,  where  are  your  big  Leicestershire  fences  .^ 
But  I  was  as  oftentimes  deceived,  when  I  came  up  to  them, 
by  finding  them  very  big.  Biit  hoiu  is  this?  I  would 
exclaim.  Neither  Forester  nor  his  horse  appeared  to 
make  more  exertion  to  get  over  those  strong  bullock 
fences  than  they  might  have  made  in  clearing  a  dead 
hedge  and  small  ditch.  I  was  told  it  was  all  the  effect 
of  hand — of  handing  his  horses,  as  it  were,  easily  and 
tenderly  over  their  fences  ;  not  allowing  them  to  leap  a 
yard  higher,  or  farther,  than  was  necessary.  That  is  the 
man  for  me. 

"  But  I  was  soon  obliged  to  decline  keeping  such  good 
company ;  the  pace  was  beyond  what  I  had  been  used 
to,  and  my  place  was  taken  by  Sir  Henry  Peyton  on 


i86       THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN 

Watchmaker,  Lord  Foley,  and  Lindon,  who  appeared  to 
be  just  about  my  own  age.  This  gave  me  encouragement. 
'  I  see  the  young  ones  can  do  it,'  said  I ;  '  so  I  must  not 
despair.'  But  where  were  the  old  ones  ?  Why,  in  about 
three  more  fields  I  heard  a  thrilling  scream,  that  seemed 
to  enter  into  my  soul,  and  looking  to  my  left,  there  saw 
Mr.  Meynell,  and  also  Mr.  Loraine  Smith,  who,  having 
taken  advantage  of  a  turn,  the  result  of  a  quick  eye,  were 
then  close  to  the  pack.  But  where  was  Martin  Hawke,  of 
whose  desperate  style  of  riding  I  had  been  told  so  much 
by  Mr.  Somerby.  He  was  not  then  to  be  seen,  having 
had  a  fall  over  a  gate  which  would  have  stopped  a  red- 
deer.  But  what  surprised  me  most,  was  the  pace  at  which 
Lord  Sefton  passed  me  in  the  middle  of  a  large  field,  and 
the  quickness  with  which  he  made  up  his  ground,  having 
had  a  bad  start.  Young  Eaven,  the  huntsman's  son, 
however,  was  behind  him,  mounted  on  one  of  his  horses, 
on  to  which  he  jumped  at  the  very  first  opportunity  ;  and 
well  it  was  that  he  did  so,  for  neither  money  nor  condi- 
tion could  maintain  that  speed  long  under  sixteen  stone. 
Still  there  were  several  heavy  men  going  well ;  amongst 
them,  Mr.  Lockly,  on  a  superb  horse,  called  Confidence, 
for  which  I  heard  he  had  refused  800  guineas.  But  tliis 
reminds  me  of  a  sad  disaster,  which  chilled  the  pleasure 
of  this  fine  run.  At  the  first  check,  Mr.  Loraine  Smith's 
horse,  whose  name  I  understood  was  Hollyhock,  and  for 
which  Lord  Sefton  had  oflered  him  the  above-named  sum, 
dropped  down  dead,  from  a  rupture  of  a  blood-vessel  at 
the  heart.  Neither  was  this  the  sole  disaster.  A  horse 
called  Hermit,  ridden  by  Captain  St.  Paul,  and  which  he 
had  only  just  purchased  at  the,  even  then,  stift'  price  of 
700  guineas,  stood  stock-still  in  the  middle  of  a  field,  and 
was  only  saved  from  death  by  copious  bleeding  by  his 
master.  This,  however,  gave  rise  to  a  rather  ludicrous 
circumstance.  A  caricature  appeared  in  London,  repre- 
senting the  scene,  these  words  being  written  underneath 
it  : — '  An  apostle  administering  comfort  to  a  distressed 
hermit.' 

"Up  to  this  time — say  twenty  minutes — I  had  been 
carried,  as  I  thought,  well  ;  indeed,  one  gentleman,  whose 
name  I  did  not  know,  said  to  me,  '  You  are  going  well, 
•  sir  ; '  upon  which  I  stroked  my  horse's  neck  with  my 
hand,  and  said  to  myself,  '  I  have  got  a  superior  horse.' 
But  I  was  rather  premature  in  my  praises.     He  very  soon 


THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN        187 

did  wliat  I  did  not  at  all  like.  He  put  his  fore  feet  into 
a  ditch,  dropped  his  hinder  legs  in  a  small  brook,  struck 
the  top  rail  of  a  timber  fence  very  hard  indeed,  and  was 
altogether  not  by  half  so  pleasant  a  horse  to  ride  as  he 
had  been  for  the  first  ten  minutes.  To  say  the  truth,  I 
began  not  to  like  it,  for  the  fences  got  very  large  and 
strong,  at  least  so  they  appeared  to  me. 

"  'A  very  stiff  country  this,  sir,'  said  I  to  a  gentleman 
in  black,  who  appeared  to  be  going  very  much  at  his  ease  ; 
'  devilish  big  fences,  sir,' 

'"  Pretty  well  for  that,  sir,'  he  replied;  'but  you  are 
young  enough,  and  strong  enough.  You've  nothing  to  do 
but  to  throw  your  heart  over  them,  and  follow  it.' 

"  My  heart,  however,  proved  stouter  than  my  horse.  I 
went  boring  along,  losing  ground  in  every  field  we  entered, 
and  being  obliged  to  turn  away  from  a  stiff  stile,  with  a 
footbridge  over  a  brook  on  the  rising  side,  which  I  knew 
I  had  not  in  me  at  the  time,  I  lost  sight  of  the  leading 
men,  and  of  the  hounds  of  course,  only  making  my  appear- 
ance at  the  last,  by  the  help  of  a  turnpike  road,  with  the 
rest  of  the  awkward  squad,  about  ten  minutes  after  the 
fox  had  been  killed,  which  he  was,  at  the  end  of  a 
beautiful  and  very  fast  burst  of  thirty-eight  minutes. 

"Nevertheless,  all  things  considered,  I  had  not  great 
reason  to  be  dissatisfied  with  the  occurrences  of  this  day. 
I  certainly  was  in  a  very  good  place  the  first  quarter  of  an 
hour,  and  not  in  a  bad  one  the  next  five  minutes ;  and, 
now  I  think  of  it,  I  can  account  for  my  not  being  able  to 
go  well  to  the  end  of  the  run.  I  recollect  hearing  Mr. 
Somerby  sa}',  when  at  Amstead,  that  there  was  a  sort  of, 
not  ad  valorem,  but  ad  virtutem,  price  upon  horses  that 
were,  as  mine  were,  '  well  known  in  Leicestershire.'  '  It 
depends,'  said  he,  'on  how  long  they  can  go.  For  ex- 
ample,' resumed  he,  '  a  horse  that  can  go  well  for  twenty 
minutes  will  always  fetch  his  100  guineas,  and  if  half  an 
hour,  double  that  sum.'  Now  as  I  only  gave  150  guineas 
for  Gentlemen,  at  Tattersall's,  I  had  no  reason  to  expect 
to  have  gone  farther  than  I  did  on  that  money.  I  shall, 
however,  in  future  require  a  little  exposition  of  the  words, 
'  well  known  in  Leicestershire ' — whether  for  good,  or  for 
evil. 

"  I  was  rather  surprised  to  find,  judging  from  the  state 
of  my  o%vn  horse,  and  that  of  many  others,  that  another 
fox  was  to  be  drawn  for,  as,  notwithstanding  some  of  the 


i88        THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN 

leading  men  monnted  fresh  horses,  others  rode  the  same 
which  had  carried  them  so  forward  in  the  tirst  severe 
burst.  This,  however,  was  another  proof  of  the  superiority 
of  these  horses  ;  and  when  next  in  want  of  hunters,  it 
shall  be  from  amongst  such  as  are  known  to  do  such 
things  that  I  shall  make  my  selection,  and  not  from  those 
which  are  well  known  to  be  able  to  jump  a  few  tremendous 
fences,  and  travel  at  the  ultra  pace  for  a  short  quarter  of 
an  hour,  and  then  shut  up  at  once,  or  tumble  in  every 
other  fence  at  which  their  riders  may  put  them," 

Although  our  hero's  Gentleman,  with  his  hollow  sides, 
dejected  countenance,  extended  nostrils,  and  dirty  face — 
for  he  had  been  twice  down  on  his  head,  and  only  picked 
up  by  the  superior  strength  of  his  rider— had  not  the 
aristocratic  appearance  which  he  had  exhibited  before  the 
hounds  found,  when  he  certainly  looked  quite  lit  to  carry 
a  gentleman — and  such  he  had  on  his  back  when  he 
carried  Frank  Raby — still  he  had  enough  left  in  him  to 
trot  along  with  the  hounds  to  Scraptoft,  and  see  a  second 
find.  This  gave  him  an  opportunity  of  throwing  his  eyes 
over  the  hounds,  which,  it  might  be  almost  needless  to 
say,  he  admired  beyond  any  that  he  had  hitherto  seen,  not 
only  for  their  form,  but  their  very  business-like  appear- 
ance ;  and,  as  may  be  supposed,  the  fact  of  their  having 
been  bred  by  Mr.  Meynell  added  not  a  little  to  their  value 
in  the  eyes  of  so  young  a  sportsman.  Then  the  three  men, 
having  been  Mr.  Meynell's  men,  were  equally  pearls  in 
his  eyes.  He  could  not,  indeed,  but  admire  the  appear- 
ance of  all  three,  for  anything  more  characteristic  could 
scarcely  be  exhibited  in  the  human  form.  As  for  John 
Raven,  he  might  have  been  shown  as  a  pattern-card  of  his 
order.  His  keen  and  piercing  eye,  beaming  from  out  a 
swarthy,  but  healthy  skin,  and  strictly  according  in  colour 
with  his  black  and  curly  hair — raven  locks  we  might  call 
them — ^^just  visible  under  his  cap  ;  all  this,  added  to  his 
well-proportioned  form,  cast  in  the  very  mould  for  strong 
work,  and  of  the  right  height  for  a  horseman — and  as  such 
he  was  first-rate — at  once  pronounced  him  entitled  to  the 
character  we  have  given  of  him.  Neither  were  his  two 
whippers-in  foils  to  him.  Joe  Harrison  (Jones,  the  cork- 
legged  whipper-in,  had  then  just  retired,  to  the  discom- 
fiture of  our  hero,  who  wished  to  have  seen  the  rara 
avis)  was  an  excellent  sample  of  his  craft,  as  was  also  Tom 
Winkfield,  with  his  one  eye,  and  a  countenance  reminding 


THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN        189 

one  of  a  fox.  They  were  both  capital  horsemen  ;  indeed, 
I  think  I  may  say  of  Winkfield,  from  the  long  experience 
I  had  of  his  performance,  that  a  better  could  not  be  found. 

As  this  was  one  of  the  last  days  of  Mr.  Meynell  appear- 
ing in  the  field,  it  was  fortunate  for  Frank  Eaby  that 
something  occurred  to  call  his  attention  to  his  proceedings, 
how  trivial  soever  it  might  be.  A  small  cover  that  lay  on 
the  road  to  Scraptoft  was  tried,  but  it  did  not  hold  a  fox. 
One  hound,  however,  threw  his  tongue  once  in  the  gorse 
and  no  rate  being  heard,  afiiid  was  considered  certain. 

"  Have  a  care,  Dromo,"  however,  was  heard  from  Mr. 
Meynell,  with  one  smack  of  his  whip.  It  was  no  find  ; 
and  on  Lord  Sefton  approaching  Mr.  Meynell,  he  asked 
him  if  he  knew  the  tongue  of  the  hound  that  spoke  in  the 
gorse  ? 

"  It  was  Dromo,"  said  Meynell. 

"  I  think  not,"  replied  his  Lordship  ;  "  Dromo  was  on 
the  other  side  of  the  cover,  drawing  very  well." 

"  It  was  either  Dromo  or  Drummer  "  (brothers,  and  one- 
year  hunters),  resumed  the  veteran ;  but  as  Eaven  came 
by  with  the  pack,  the  question  was  at  once  decided. 

"  What  hound  spoke  to  a  scent,  John  1 "  said  Lord 
Sefton.  "  Dromo,  my  Lord,"  replied  Eaven.  "  I  think 
a  fox  has  been  through  the  gorse  early  in  the  night."  This 
showed  the  accuracy  of  Mr.  Meynell's  ear,  and  at  a  period 
of  life  when  such  accuracy  is  not  often  exhibited. 

It  would  not  be  worth  while  to  recite  the  further  doings 
of  this  day,  and  this  on  two  accounts  :  first,  the  day 
altered,  as  we  sportsmen  say,  and  the  pace  could  not  be 
maintained  ;  and  secondly,  if  there  had  been  a  really 
good  thing,  our  hero  could  not  have  partaken  of  it, 
forasmuch  as  Gentleman  had  not  recovered  the  twister  he 
had  had  in  the  morning.  To  say  the  truth,  he  was  a  very 
middling  nag,  and  "  well  knowTi  in  Leicestershire  "  as  such, 
or  150  guineas,  or  even  double  that  sum,  would  not  have 
purchased  him  at  Tattersall's,  for,  like  many  other  "  gentle- 
men," his  appearance  was  very  imposing. 

On  his  arrival  at  Melton,  our  hero  was  much  dis- 
appointed at  all  he  saw  of  the  town  as  he  rode  to  the 
"  Swan,"  the  head  inn  of  those  days,  but  now  a  private 
house  ;  and  likewise  with  the  inn  itself,  which  was  as  bad 
as  bad  could  be.  This,  however,  was  a  point  of  minor  con- 
sequence to  Frank  Eaby,  inasmuch  as  by  the  introduction 
of  Mr.  Somerby,  in  addition  to  the  weight  his  own  connec- 


igo        THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN 

tions  gave  to  liis  name,  he  was  seldom  thrown  on  his  own 
resources  for  a  dinner  ;  and  on  the  very  day  of  his  arrival 
was  a  guest  at  the  Old  Club,  And  there  was,  in  the  pro- 
ceedings of  this  club,  what  much  took  his  fancy.  There 
was  a  quiet,  unaffected  style  in  the  dinner,  although 
dressed  by  a  good  man-cook,  as  well  as  in  the  way  in 
which  the  evening  was  passed,  which  he  considered  to 
be  quite  in  character  with  sportsmen.  After  a  moderate 
allowance  of  wine,  tea  and  coffee  were  announced  ;  and 
after  an  hour  or  two's  amusement  with  cards,  each  man 
retired  to  his  couch,  to  be  ready  and  fresh  for  the  follow- 
ing day. 

And  here  the  forthcoming  day  was  productive  of  an 
event  which  could  have  only  occurred  in  this  "  metropolis 
of  fox-hunting,"  which  Leicestershire  is  very  properly 
called  ;  but  it  was  an  event  which  our  hero  would 
never  have  forgotten,  had  he  lived  a  thousand  years. 
Having  fallen  asleep  after  his  servant  had  called  him,  he 
found  himself  almost  alone  in  Melton,  that  is,  amongst  the 
hunting  men,  all  of  them,  with  the  exception  of  two — who, 
as  luck  would  have  it,  were  going  to  the  same  hounds 
as  himself,  those  of  the  Earl  of  Lonsdale — having  started 
on  their  road  to  cover.  The  names  of  these  individuals 
he  did  not  know  at  the  time ;  but  on  seeing  them  j)ass 
the  windows  of  his  inn,  he  ordered  out  his  cover-hack,  and 
followed  them,  at  a  respectful  distance,  along  the  London 
turnpike-road,  which  it  was  highly  necessary  he  should 
have  done,  as  he  did  not  know  his  way  to  the  cover, 
nor  was  there  anyone  else  to  direct  him.  He  had  not, 
however,  proceeded  more  than  two  miles  along  this  road, 
before  he  saw  his  guides  turn,  at  a  right  angle,  through 
a  bridle-gate,  and  of  course  he  turned  through  it  also. 
Three  more  bridle-gates  were  passed  through  at  the 
extremities  of  fine  grass  grounds,  over  which  these  two 
crack  horsemen,  for  such  they  were,  went  at  a  rate  which 
rather  surprised  our  young  sportsman,  conceiving  them 
to  be,  like  himself,  riding  their  cover-hacks.  No  sooner 
through  the  fourth  gate,  however,  than  a  different  line  of 
country  presented  itself.  They  left  the  bridle-road  and 
made  for  a  sheep-pen  in  a  corner,  which  they  passed,  and 
then,  leaping  into  and  out  of  a  lane,  put  their  heads  about 
as  straight  as  the  crow  flies,  in  the  direction  of  a  spire 
which  was  in  view.  Our  hero  now  began  to  find  his 
mistake— nay,  more,  that  he  was  in  a  scrape  ;  for,  although 


THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN        191 

the  hack  he  was  mounted  on  could  get  over  certain  fences, 
at  a  certain  pace,  he  began  to  find  that,  if  he  continued 
at  the  pace  these  Meltonians  were  leading  him  over  this 
fine  but  choking  country,  he  would  soon  be  unable  to  leap 
at  all.  He  had  nothing  to  do,  then,  but  to  pull  up,  and 
endeavour  to  follow  his  guides,  as  Hercules  did  the  oxen, 
by  the  tracks  of  their  horses'  feet  on  the  ground. 

"  All  went  well  for  the  next  five  fields.  The  fences  were 
practicable,  and  as  the  distance  from  Melton  was  only 
eight  miles,  our  hero  began  to  think  that,  from  the  pace 
they  had  been  going,  he  might  still  arrive  before  the  fox 
was  found.  But  when  in  the  middle  of  a  very  large  field, 
and  in  the  act  of  descending  from  the  highest  part  of  it, 
he  saw  what  he  suspected  might  prove  to  be  death  to  all 
his  hopes.  He  saw,  and  apparently  for  miles  right  and 
left,  the  valley  he  was  about  to  descend  into,  not,  in 
poetical  language — 

"With  rural  dainties  crown'd, 
While  opening  blooms  diffuse  their  sweets  around," 

where  nothing  was  to  be  heard  but  the  hum  of  insects,  the 
melody  of  birds,  and  the  wild  music  of  the  shepherd's 
pipe  ;  but  he  saw  a  long  and  undulating  line  of  stumpy 
old  pollarded  willow-trees,  which  too  plainly  convinced 
him  that  a  deep  brook  was  in  his  line  ;  and  as  for  the  hum 
of  insects,  the  melody  of  birds,  and  the  wild  music  of  the 
shepherd's  pipe,  not  a  thing  could  he  hear,  animate  or 
inanimate,  beyond  the  puffing  and  blowing  of  his  half- 
tired  horse,  and  the  sort  of  sucking  noise  his  feet  made  as 
he  pulled  them  out  of  the  furrows  of  this  highly  ridged 
field. 

"  Now,  what  is  to  be  done  ? "  was  the  question  he  put  to 
himself, — and  a  serious  question  it  was ;  for  should  he 
not  be  able  to  get  to  hounds,  he  greatly  feared  that  many 
a  good  laugh  would  be  had  at  his  expense,  even  should 
he  escape  being  shown  up  in  a  caricature  as  "a  young 
provincial  gentleman  going  to  cover  in  Leicestershire." 
As  to  a  bridge,  or  a  ford,  or  a  road,  his  eye  looked  for 
either  in  vain  ;  and  when  he  came  down  on  the  brook, 
and  saw  where  his  two  guides  had  taken  it  in  their  stroke, 
he  considered  himself  to  be  in  the  most  trying  situation  in 
which  a  young  sportsman,  similarly  circumstanced,  could 
be  placed.  He  recollected,  however,  that  he  had  once 
ridden  the  horse  he  was  then  on,  and  which  had  been 


192        THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN 

hunted  by  a  young  farmer  with  his  father's  harriers,  over 
a  brook  nearly,  if  not  quite,  as  wide  as  the  one  which  now 
unfortunately  arrested  his  progress ;  so  he  at  once  deter- 
mined on  riding  at  it.  And  he  certainly  gave  him  a  fair 
chance  ;  for  it  was  not  nntil  he  had  turned  his  head  to 
the  wind,  and  thereby  enabled  him  to  recover  his  strength 
a  little,  that  he  put  his  intentions  into  execution.  Taking 
him,  then,  about  twenty  yards  from  its  banks,  he  put  him 
manfully  at  the  brook,  which,  as  we  say  of  the  grave, 
only  yawned  to  receive  him.  Whether  it  was  that  he 
wanted  the  excitement  of  the  Amstead  harriers,  or  whether 
the  Melton  cover-hack  pace  was  c[uite  beyond  his  mark, 
it  is  hard  to  determine,  but  this  much  is  certain  : — despite 
of  the  resolute  manner  in  which  he  was  ridden  at  it  ; 
namely,  with  two  good  digs  of  the  spurs  on  starting,  a 
refresher,  when  near  the  bank,  by  the  whip,  and  a  "  Come 
up "  at  rising,  he  only  landed  his  fore  legs  on  the  bank, 
falling  backwards  into  the  water,  with  our  hero  nnder- 
neatli  him,  who  might  be  said  to  have  been  anywhere  but 
in  clover  at  the  time.  The  upshot,  however,  was  that, 
having,  after  a  lapse  of  nearly  half  an  hour,  got  his  horse 
on  the  bank  again,  he  retraced  his  steps  to  Melton,  on 
no  very  agreeable  terms  with  himself,  but  with  a  full 
determination  to  know  beforehand  to  whom  he  should  in 
future  look  as  pilots  to  direct  his  course  over  Leicestershire, 
for  in  this  instance  he  had  made  a  sad  mistake. 

He  had  got  into  the  wake  not  only  of  two  of  the  best 
men  in  the  hunt,  the  afterwards  great  Tom  Smith  and  Mr. 
Vansittart,  but,  as  is  often  the  case  with  Meltonians  who 
possess  large  studs,  they  were  not  themselves  on  cover- 
hacks,  but  on  first-rate  hunters,  whose  pipes  they  were 
amusing  themselves  with  opening,  against  their  next  day's 
work  with  hounds,  instead  of  leaving  that  task  to  their 
servants,  who,  as  they  had  known  to  their  cost,  could  not 
perform  it  so  well. 

As  might  be  expected,  many  inquiries  were  made 
respecting  the  absence  of  "  young  Raby,"  as  he  was  called  ; 
for  his  having  been  introduced  by  Mr.  Somerby,  an 
influential  character  in  the  hunt,  together  with  his  name 
and  connections,  had  rendered  him  an  object  of  notice, 
even  with  the  Melton  men,  an  honour  not  very  often 
conferred  on  persons  of  still  greater  pretensions.  But 
they  liked  the  looks  of  young  Raby.  There  was  some- 
thing manly  and  sj^ortsmanlike  about  him  :  in  short,  they 


THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN        193 

first  considered  him  "  a  promising  young  one,"  a  compliment 
paid  to  him  by  Mr.  Forester,  no  bad  judge.  To  the  ques- 
tions put  to  our  hero  himself,  he  made  the  following  candid 
answer  :  "  Why,  I  was  very  rightly  served.  I  neglected 
the  observance  of  what  ought  to  be  a  standing  rule  in  all 
situations  of  life,  and  in  none  more  than  in  a  sportsman's  ; 
namely,  to  '  take  time  by  the  forelock,'  as  the  proverb  has 
it,  and  even  to  allow  for  the  chapter  of  accidents.  The 
fact  was,  I  was  at  my  breakfast  when  I  ought  to  have 
been  on  my  hack,  and  I  paid  dearly  for  my  folly  by 
being  soused  over  head  and  ears  in  a  brook,  besides  losing, 
as  I  understand,  a  fine  day's  sport.  However,  the  lesson 
will  not  be  lost  upon  me,  in  having  impressed  two  things 
upon  my  mind  ;  first,  to  be  wider  awake  on  a  hunting 
morning  ;  secondly,  the  fact  that  a  pretty  good  hunter 
with  my  father's  harriers  is  a  devilish  bad  cover-hack  in 
Leicestershire." 

The  next  day  being  Sunday,  Frank  Raby,  after  being  in 
church,  for  Melton  men  go  to  church,  and  hearing  an 
excellent  discourse  from  Doctor  Ford,  on  the  empty 
vanity  of  all  human  pursuits,  was  conducted  by  his  friend 
Somerby  through  several  of  the  stables  belonging  to  the 
principal  Melton  men,  which  was  to  him  a  great  treat. 
The  impression  made  upon  him  by  this  inspection  was 
conveyed  to  his  friend,  Sir  John  Inkleton,  in  a  letter,  of 
which  the  following  is  a  copy  : — 

"Melton,  February  3,  1802. 
"Dear  Inkletox, — I  promised  to  let  you  know  how 
I  get  on  in  Leicestershire.  I  made  a  bad  start  on  Friday 
with  the  Quorn  ; — attempted  to  go  the  pace  with  the 
leading  men,  and  brought  Gentleman  to  a  standstill.  I 
think  his  place  is  '  the  provincials,'  as  the  top-sawyers  here 
call  all  countries  but  their  own.  However,  I  was  much 
pleased  with  their  beautiful  riding,  and  went  as  long  as  I 
could.  But,  to  use  the  vulgar  phrase,  I  must  either  eat 
more  pudding, — that  is,  become  older, — or  buy  better 
horses,  before  I  shall  be  able  to  go  their  pace,  for  it  is 
nearly  the  Bibury  Welter  pace.  And  yet  I  have  no 
reason  to  be  displeased  with  my  first  day  in  Leicestershire. 
Somerby  introduced  me  to  several  of  the  dons,  and,  above 
all,  to  Mr.  Meynell,  who  equals  all  I  have  heard  of  him 
in  his  manners  and  appearance.  Lord  Sefton  does  the 
whole  thing  in  first-rate  style  ;  his  huntsman,  Raven  (I 

13 


194       THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN 

have  not  seen  Stephen  Goodall),  is  worth  riding  fifty 
miles  to  see.  Every  one  says  he  is  perfect  in  the  field, 
and  has,  what  can  be  said  of  few,  only  one  fault  elsewhere. 
He  is  rather  too  fond  of  his  Lordship's  good  October.  The 
meet  at  Cream  Lodge  Gorse  was  such  a  sight  as  I  never 
thought  I  should  see — but  more  of  this  when  we  meet. 

"  Yesterday  I  made  a  very  '  bad  cast,'  as  old  Dick  says. 
I  missed  seeing  a  fine  run  with  Lord  Lonsdale's  hounds 
by  oversleeping  myself,  and  got  well  punished  for  so 
doing.  When  I  ought  to  have  been  half-way  to  cover,  I 
was  at  my  breakfast,  and  by  endeavouring  to  follow  the 
two  last  men  out  of  Melton,  but  generally  two  of  the  first 
in  a  run,  on  their  cover-hacks,  as  I  imagined,  I  got  over 
head  in  a  brook,  and  was  obliged  to  return  without 
seeing  a  hound.  They  proved  to  be  Mr.  Assheton  Smith, 
called  here,  par  excellence  no  doubt,  Tom  Smith,  and  Mr. 
Vansittart,  both  mounted  uj)on  hunters. 

"I  was  much  disappointed  with  Melton — I  mean  the 
town,  which  is  a  poor  place,  but  it  contains  many  good 
fellows.  I  dined  at  the  Old  Club  the  first  day,  the 
members  of  which  ajDpear  to  live  together  after  the 
manner  of  brothers,  and  just  as  sportsmen  ought  to  live  ; 
no  midnight  revelling  to  shake  the  nerves.  In  fact,  I  am 
told  a  pint  of  wine  is  the  usual  limit  with  many  of  the 
best  men  at  Melton. 

"  To-day  I  went  to  church,  a  beautiful  specimen  of  the 
florid  Gothic,  with  very  pretty  chimes,  and  was  amused 
as  well  as  edified  bv  the  rector.  Dr.  Ford,  When  I  say, 
'  amused,'  I  must  tell  you  why.  He  would  not  suffer  the 
clerk  to  murder  the  second  and  fourth  verses  of  the  psalm 
of  the  day,  but  read  them  himself,  evidently  partaking 
of  the  poetical  inspiration  of  the  author  of  them.  It  is 
really  abominable  to  hear  our  clerk  at  Amstead  murder 
and  miscall  this  fine  language, — '  the  howl  in  the  dessart,' 
for  example.  But  enough  of  this.  After  church  I 
walked  through  several  stables  in  the  town,  and  saw,  as 
you  may  suppose,  many  fine  horses.  To  carry  my  weight, 
Mr.  Forester's  stud  pleased  me  most.  They  were  chiefly 
brown  geldings,  that  colour  being  prevalent  in  Shropshire 
(where  he  generally  purchases  his  hunters),  with  those 
got  by  the  Hundred  House  Snap,  his  favourite  blood. 
Cholmondeley's  horses  were  very  perfect,  and  just  suited 
to  his  weight.  By  the  way,  I  remember  a  Christchurch 
man,  out  of  his  county,  saying  that  whilst  he  was  staying 


THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN        195 

at  liis  seat  in  Cheshire,  thirteen  hunters  took  their 
departure  for  Melton  ;  and  on  his  observing  that  '  it  must 
be  a  difficult  matter  to  find  such  a  lot : '— '  Not  at  all,' 
replied  Cholmondeley,  'the  difficulty  is  in  finding  the 
money  to  pay  for  them.' 

"  Furtlier  particulars  of  what  I  saw  to-day  must  remain 
till  we  meet.  I  shall  only  add  that,  although  the  general 
condition  of  the  hunters  here  is  very  good,  it  does  not 
equal  that  of  Lord  Sefton's  stud ;  and  I  have  told 
Pritchard — who  of  course  growled  on  hearing  it — that  no 
hunter  of  mine  should  ever  again  have  a  summer's  run  at 
grass. — Believe  me,  dear  Inkleton,  truly  yours, 

''Francis  Raby. 

"P.S. — I  hope  your  stable  continues  right,  and  that 
you  will  come  here  soon.  Depend  upon  it,  it  is  the  place 
for  sport.  In  fact,  one  of  the  flyers  here  says — not  that  I 
agree  with  him — '  riding  to  cover  over  this  country  is 
better  than  riding  to  hounds  over  most  others.'      F.  R." 

The  next  appearance  of  our  young  sportsman  with 
hounds,  was  with  those  of  the  Duke  of  Rutland  at  one  of 
their  most  favourite  fixtures,  and  where,  as  is  usual  in 
such  cases,  most  of  the  leading  characters  of  the  three 
adjoining  hunts  met  together.  The  scene,  like  that  at 
Cream  Lodge,  was  one  of  the  most  cheering  and  soul- 
stirring  description  to  a  person  of  his  age  and  experience, 
and  tended  to  enhance  greatly  his  opinion  of  Melton  as 
a  domicile  for  a  hunting  man.  Then  there  was  a  character 
at  the  head  of  his  Grace's  hunting  establishment  who  was 
an  object  of  much  interest,  and  especially  so  with  young 
sportsmen,  inasmuch  as  he  was,  at  that  period,  what  may 
be  called  the  only  one  in  his  calling  with  anything  like 
equal  pretensions  ;  namely,  to  unite  the  gentleman  with 
the  huntsman,  combining  the  duties  of  the  servant  withal. 
This  was  the  far-famed  Shaw,  who  then  hunted  the  Duke 
of  Rutland's  hounds,  and  who,  for  what  may  be  called 
"  style"  in  every  department  and  movement  of  his  calling, 
was  the  most  celebrated  huntsman  of  the  day.  All  this, 
indeed,  was  visible  to  Frank  Raby  previously  to  the 
hounds  throwing  off ;  for,  instead  of  seeing  him,  where  he 
looked  for  him,  in  the  middle  of  his  pack,  as  they  stood 
under  the  shelter  of  a  fence,  awaiting  the  appointed  hour, 
he  observed  him  coming  along  on  his  cover-hack,  at  the 


196        THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN 

rate  of  fifteen  miles  in  the  hour,  and  in  company  with 
two  distinguished  sportsmen,  then  on  a  visit  to  the  Duke, 
and  who  were,  do  doubt,  enjoying,  as  well  as  profiting  by, 
the  sage  and  pertinent  remarks  of  a  man  so  eminent  in 
his  way,  which,  although  delivered  with  the  authority  of 
a  master,  were  given  with  the  respect  expected  from  a 
servant.  Nor  was  this  all  :  he  was  amused  with  his 
proceedings  on  his  arrival.  After  the  usual  exchange  of 
greetings  between  himself  and  his  hounds,  which  no  man 
who  has  a  soul,  or  is  capable  of  being  pleased  M'ith  such 
simple  exhibitions  of  nature,  can  witness  without  pleasure, 
there  was  something  quite  aristocratic  in  the  manner  in 
which  he  prepared  himself  for  entering  upon  his  office, 
and  commencing  the  operations  of  tlie  day.  The  mud- 
boots  being  taken  off,  and  the  dust,  should  there  have 
been  any,  wiped  off  his  neat  and  well-polished  boots,  a 
white  cambric  handkerchief  was  generally  taken  from  his 
pocket  by  Shaw,  with  which,  after  gently  raising  his  cap 
from  his  head,  he  as  gently  wiped  his  brow,  returning  it 
to  whence  it  came.  Then  there  was  something  remark- 
able too — something  pleasing  to  the  ear,  in  the  tone  of 
Shaw's  voice,  and  especially  so  when  uttering  the  words — 
" your  Grace"  which,  of  course,  were  invariably  appended 
to  his  answers  to  his  noble  master.  Again,  there  was  an 
air  about  him  even  in  mounting  his  hunter,  and  trotting 
awa}^  with  the  hounds  towards  the  cover,  at  the  signal 
given  to  him  by  the  Duke,  which  forcibly  struck  Frank 
Eaby  as  something  out  of  the  common  way.  The  signal 
was  silently  but  gracefully  acknowledged  by  a  gentle 
raising  of  the  cap,  and  he  may  be  said  to  have  thro^\Ti  his 
hounds  into  cover  with  much  grace.  As  for  his  horse- 
manship, it  was  elegant,  and  so  thought  our  hero. 

But  our  hero's  opinion  of  the  hounds  shall  appear  in  a 
letter  he  wrote  to  his  friend  Lord  Dauntley,  after  hunting 
with  Lord  Lonsdale's  hounds  on  the  following  day,  and 
once  more  with  Lord  Sefton's. 

"Melton,  Feb.  6,  1802. 
"  Dear  Dauntley,  —  As  we  shall  meet  so"^  soon,  I 
shall  only  now  tell  you  that  I  have  been  out  with  the 
three  packs,  and  am  delighted  with  all  I  have  seen.  I 
could  not  have  believed,  had  I  not  witnessed  it,  that  any 
part  of  England  could  be  so  favourable,  both  for  hounds 
and  those  who  ride  to  them,  as  that  which  I  have  lately 


THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN        197 

travelled  over.  And  at  what  a  pace  it  is  travelled  over  ! 
But  you  know  all  this  better  than  I  can  tell  you.  I  can 
only  say,  it  is  too  fast  for  me,  at  least,  for  my  horses.  I 
stopped  Gentleman,  the  first  day  with  the  Quorn,  in  little 
more  than  twenty  minutes  ;  Achilles  is  too  slow  ;  ditto 
Pantaloon  ;  ^  in  fact,  the  General,  and  Bowman  ^ — a  right 
good  one — are  the  only  two  at  all  lit  for  this  country.  My 
stable  will  soon  be  stumped  up,  and  I  must  either  return 
to  the  provincials,  or  purchase  others.  It  is  useless  to  be 
here  with  only  six  horses,  and  four  of  those  not  up  to  the 
mark.  I  overheard  one  of  the  fellows  yesterday  say — '  I 
think  that  young  Eaby  would  ride  if  he  had  the  cattle, 
but  the  present  lot  won't  do.  They  tell  me  he'll  be  well 
breeched  one  of  these  days,  so  it's  his  own  fault  if  he  don't 
mend  his  stable.'  I  think  so,  too,  Dauntley  ;  and  I  must 
go  to  Moses  before  next  hunting  season — that  is  to  say, 
if  Mr.  Darkin  don't  win  the  Oaks.  Trueman  gives  me 
hopes  in  his  last  letter  ;  he  says  ^  Rouge  is  one  of  the  best 
goers  of  a  young  one  he  ever  saw.'  As  he  is  so  good  a 
judge,  I  think  something  of  this.  He  says  nothing  of 
Euphrosyne ;  but  if  one  of  them  can  do  the  trick  it's 
enough. 

"  Now  for  my  opinion  of  what  I  have  seen.  I  like  the 
Melton  fellows  much — '  no  nonsense  about  them,'  as  Jack 
Bailey  says  ;  and  they  are  very  civil — indeed,  kind  to 
me  !  Of  the  hounds  I  should  say  this  : — The  Quorn  and 
Lord  Lonsdale's  are  the  most  business-like,  but  the 
Duke's  are,  perhaps,  the  handsomest  to  the  eye.  They 
certainly  show  much  blood,  as  we  say  of  horses.  The 
others  are  coarser  in  some  of  their  points  ;  for  example, 
a  hound  in  the  Quorn  called  Guzman,  which  Kaven  told 
me  they  breed  much  from,  is  coarse  in  his  fore-quarters, 
with  what  old  Dick  calls  'a  chitterling  shirt  about  his 
neck.'  I  believe  the  term  is,  '  a  little  throating.'  But 
they  all  have  good  legs,  and  feet,  and  loins,  at  least  as  far 
as  I  am  a  judge.  The  Duke's,  with  a  good  scent,  are 
called  the  fastest ;  indeed,  one  day  last  week  they  ran 
clean  away  from  the  horses,  in  a  burst  of  twelve  minutes 
— only  one  thorough-bred  one  being  able  to  live  with 
them.  Shaw  confessed  he  was  beat  half  a  mile  in  four, 
and  over  the  finest  part  of  the  country  for  a  splitter. 

1  The  horse  purchased  at  Tattersall's,  together  with  Gentleman. 

2  The  horse  purchased  at  the  recommendation  of  Sir  John 
Inkleton,  and  already  spoken  of. 


198        THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN 

Lord  Lonsdale's  are  capital  hunters,  and,  I  believe,  seldom 
lose  a  fox,  unless  by  accident,  when  the  scent  serves. 
The  countrv  I  met  them  in  looked  very  much  like  fox- 
hunting, the  fixture  was  Tilton  Wood.  Yesterday,  I 
met  the  Quorn  again  ;  it  was  the  pack  hunted  by  Stephen 
Goodall,  a  most  intelligent-looking  fellow,  but  a  cruel 
weight  for  a  horse.  He  is  said  to  be  very  clever,  and  if 
up  with  his  hounds  in  time,  generally  puts  them  right, 
when  at  fault.  We  had  a  capital  run,  and  I  am  happy 
to  say  I  was  capitally  carried  by  Bowman.  I  suppose  I 
could  put  him  into  my  pocket  at  a  large  sum,  if  I  was  so 
disposed,  as  Pritchard  tells  me  no  less  than  three  of  his 
brothers  of  the  stable  have  asked  him  whether  he  was  for 
sale  ?  There  was  some  desperate  riding  yesterday  ;  and  I 
understand  the  part  of  the  Stanton  Brook  which  Forester 
leaped  on  a  horse  called  Bernado,  measured  thirty-two 
feet — a  great  leap  for  a  horse,  with  better  than  fourteen 
stone  on  his  back. 

"  Now,  then,  adieu  till  we  meet.  If  you  chance  to  see 
the  fillies,  let  me  have  your  opinion  of  their  condition, 
&c.  ;  and,  should  you  hear  of  a  good  well-bred  hunter  for 
sale,  think  of  me.  I  will  go  as  far  as  300  guineas, — 
Dear  Dauntley,  ever  yours, 

"  Francis  Eaby. 

'•The  Lord  Dauntley,  &c.  &c. 

"  P.S. — I  had  nearly  forgotten  to  tell  you,  that  I  was 
much  pleased  with  the  appearance  of  the  celebrated  Mr. 
Brummell  in  the  field.  He  is  not  a  sportsman,  I  believe, 
nor  much  of  a  rider  ;  but  he  is  one  of  the  neatest  and  best 
dressed  men  I  ever  saw.  His  horses,  also,  are  complete 
both  in  shape  and  condition,  and  everything  about  him — 
the  tout  ensemble,  I  think  they  call  it  on  the  other  side  of 
the  Channel — may  be  said  to  be  comj)lete." 

The  ides  of  March  were  not  more  dreaded  by  the  great 
Csesar  himself,  than  they  are  by  a  fox-hunter  in  the 
ploughed  countries,  as  half  a  dozen  "  fine  March  days,"  as 
the  farmers  say  of  them,  put  a  stop  to  anything  like  sport 
with  hounds.  This  being  the  case  in  that  district  in 
which  Sir  John  Inkleton  hunted,  he  most  liberally  made 
an  offer  of  his  four  capital  hunters  to  his  young  friend, 
Frank  Baby,  and  they  arrived  at  Melton  in  tip-top  con- 
dition, just  one  month  previous  to  the  conclusion  of  the 


THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN        199 

season.  Here,  then,  was  the  character  of  our  hero  at  once 
brought  forth,  and  stamped.  In  some  of  their  best  runs — 
which  are  not  denied  to  honnds  in  tlie  grass  countries, 
even  to  the  middle  of  April — he  particularly  distinguished 
himself  ;  and  it  was  the  general  opinion  of  the  best  judges 
amongst  the  Meltonians  and  the  members  of  the  other 
Hunts,  that  Frank  Eaby,  as  he  was  now  everywhere 
called,  would  one  day  or  another  rank  in  the  foremost 
class,  not  only  of  horsemen,  but  of  sportsmen — verifying 
the  prophetic  verdict  of  Mr.  Forester,  that  he  was  "  a  very 
promising  young  one." 


CHAPTER    XII 

A  sample  of  a  young  sportsman's  life  in  London — A  near  thing  for 
the  Oaks  at  Epsom,  and  a  close  shave  for  the  Oaks  at  Amstead. 

THE  season  concluded,  our  hero  took  his  departure 
from  Melton,  but  not  without  having  hired  most 
convenient  apartments  for  the  forthcoming  one,  together 
with  a  ten-stalled  stable  for  his  horses,  being  resolved  on 
adding  four  others  to  his  number,  as  well  as  replacing 
those  who  could  not  do  the  trick.  In  fact,  he  was  now 
spoiled  for  riding  anything  second-rate,  and  Bowman  and 
the  General  were  the  only  two  that  he  intended  to  keep 
for  the  ensuing  year. 

Between  his  arrival  at  Amstead,  and  "  the  Derby,"  a 
period  of  as  much  note  in  the  almanack  of  a  sportsman  as 
^Miitsuntide  or  Easter  in  that  of  others,  nothing  occurred 
to  our  hero  sufficiently  worthy  of  record,  unless  it  be  the 
receipt  of  the  two  following  letters  at  about  the  end  of 
the  first  fortnight : — 

"Gkosvenoe  Square,  Sunday,  April  19. 
"  Dear  Raby,  —  Your  account  of  your  doings  at 
Melton  delighted  me,  but  not  so  much  as  that  I  have 
heard  from  others  of  your  performance  over  the  country, 
and  the  good  impression  you  left  behind  you  on  the 
people.  They  all  say  'you  will  do,'  and  enough  is 
expressed  in  those  few  words.  I  saw  your  fillies  a  few 
days  back,  and  I  really  think  you  have  a  chance.  True- 
man  says  he  has  tried  them  high  (such  are  his  words),  and 


200       THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN 

that  Rouge  is  the  second  best  two-year-old  he  ever  had 
in  his  stable.  I  am  just  come  from  Tattersall's,  and  find 
they  are  both  in  the  betting  ;  Rouge  at  only  12  to  1 — 
Euphrosyne  at  25.  You  should  employ  some  one  to  lay 
out  a  hundred  for  you,  chiefly  on  Rouge,  from  what 
Trueman  says.  He  has  taken  the  odds  himself  to  £50. 
Make  use  of  me,  if  you  like,  as  I  mean  to  lay  out  some 
money  on  Rouge — a  hundred  at  least — to-morrow.  As 
they  tell  me  the  may-fly  is  gone,  I  suppose  we  shall  soon 
meet  in  the  little  village.  I  shall  therefore  only  add  that 
I  remain, — Dear  Frank,  truly  yours, 

"  Dauntley. 
"F.  Raby,  Esq." 

"  Honoured  Sir, — I  writes  to  tell  you  how  your  fillies 
is,  as  it  is  my  duty  so  to  do.  I  thinks  we  shall  be  nigh 
hand  w^ith  Rouge,  if  we  doesn't  win  the  Oaks.  I  have 
tried  her  with  a  good  four-year-old  at  eight  pounds,  and 
they  ran  head  to  head.  Euphrosyne  is  well,  and  has  good 
speed,  but  I  doubt  she  will  not  stay.^  I  have  taken  the 
odds  (12  to  1)  to  £50  about  Rouge,'  and  I  would  advise 
you  to  do  the  same,  but  don't  meddle  with  the  other  yet. 
The  odds  will  be  higher  against  her  after  a  bit,  when 
people  sees  she  hasn't  many  friends. — Sir,  your  obedient 
servant, 

"  W.  Trueman. 

"To  Feancis  Raby,  Esq." 

The  consequence  of  these  letters  was,  one  from  our  hero 
to  his  friend  Dauntley,  requesting  him  to  take  the  odds  to 
a  hundred  pounds  on  Rouge,^but,  in  the  classical  language 
of  Mr.  Trueman,  not  to  meddle  with  Euphrosyne,  and  the 
commission  was  executed,  on  the  following  Monday,  by 
his  Lordship. 

A  fortnight  before  the  Derby  our  hero  arrived  in 
London,  and,  as  usual,  took  up  his  residence  with  his 
uncle,  whose  kindness  to\\'ards  him  was  unabated.  He 
could  not,  however,  help  remarking  that,  although,  from 
the  length  of  time  since  he  had  last  seen  him,  it  was,  to  a 
certain  extent,  to  be  looked  for,  there  was  a  wide  differ- 
ence in  the  character  and  deportment  of  his  favourite 
nephew,  and  in  one  or  two  respects  not  exactly  to  be 

1  Anglice—is  a  jade  and  will  die  away  in  a  struggle  at  the  last. 


THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN        201 

accounted  for.  In  the  first  place,  he  was  rather  short  in 
his  answers  ;  in  other  words,  if  he  did  not  appear  to  hold 
his  uncle  cheaply,  he  appeared  evidently  to  attach  but 
little  weight  to  his  general  remarks  and  opinions.  The 
fact  was,  his  uncle  had  never  been  at  Melton.  In  the 
next,  he  observed  a  thoughtfulness  about  him  that  was 
not,  he  was  certain,  natural,  and  he  now  and  then  appeared 
to  be  almost  absorbed  in  thought.  In  fact,  Mr.  Beaumont 
Raby  began  to  doubt  whether  his  favourite  nephew  was 
happy,  and  even  put  the  question  to  him,  to  endeavour 
to  satisfy  his  mind  on  the  subject.  The  answer  was,  of 
course,  in  the  affirmative. 

That  Frank  Raby  was,  at  this  time,  quite  happy,  no 
one  will  readily  believe,  and  the  cause  of  his  not  being 
so  will  as  readily  present  itself.  He  had  embarked  in  a 
speculation,  the  result  of  which  was  not  only  in  itself 
uncertain,  but  it  was  also  apparent  to  him  that  he  had 
embarked  in  it  rashly,  and  without  the  means  of  carrying 
it  through  with  any  satisfaction  to  himself.  He  had 
already  put  himself  under  an  obligation  to  a  friend,  and 
that  a  newly-acquired  one,  for  the  money  his  fillies  had 
cost,  and  he  was  further  involved  with  him  in  the  odds 
he  had  taken  for  him  at  Tattersall's.  In  short,  for  the 
first  time  in  his  life,  he  found  himself  in  trouble,  in 
consequence  of  exceeding  his  means.  But  this  was  not 
the  utmost  extent  of  it.  He  had  subjected  himself,  also 
for  the  first  time,  to  a  severe  self-reproach  for  acting  an 
underhand  part  in  the  possession  of  his  racing  fillies — in 
fact,  for  having  done  what  he  feared  to  be  known  to 
all  the  world,  which  he  felt  was  quite  repugnant  to  his 
naturally  ingenuous  disposition. 

Within  a  week  of  the  meeting,  matters  stood  thus  : 
Rouge  was  third  favourite  for  the  Oaks,  the  odds  being 
only  8  to  1  against  her,  whereas,  with  respect  to  Euj^hro- 
syne,  they  remained  at  25.  Nevertheless,  in  consequence 
of  her  being  in  the  same  stable  with  Rouge,  said  to  be 
such  a  flyer,  added  to  her  being  known  to  be  a  superior 
goer,  a  good  deal  of  money  had  been  laid  out  upon  her  at 
the  above-named  quotation,  but  not  by  the  principal 
bettors,  further  than  to  make  up  their  books.  As  to  her 
owner,  although  he  had  taken  the  odds — at  least  his  noble 
friend  had  done  so  for  him — to  another  hundred  pounds, 
on  the  Monday  before  the  race,  when  they  were  only  12 
to  1,  he  had  not  one  shilling  on   Euphrosyne   nor  had 


202        THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN 

any  of  his  friends  who  were  in  the  secret,  and  they  only 
consisted  of  three  ;  namely,  Lord  Dauntley,  Hargrave,  and 
Goodall,  his  old  Christchurch  chums,  who  had  laid  out 
some  money  on  Rouge. 

On  the  morning  of  the  race,  an  alteration  had  taken, 
place  in  the  betting,  in  consequence  of  something  having 
transpired,  and  the  odds  stood  thus  :  12  to  1  against 
Rouge,  and  10  to  1  against  Euphrosyne,  or  6  to  1  against  Mr. 
Darkin's  lot.  Thus  had  Rouge  gone  down  four  points, 
whilst  Euphrosyne  got  up  fifteen  in  the  betting. 

But  one  thing  surprised  Frank  Raby  and  his  friends 
more  than  the  alteration  in  the  betting ;  and  this  was  the 
fact  of  the  worst  jockey  being  put  upon  Rouge,  and  the 
best  on  the  other  filly,  which  was  thus  accouiited  for  by 
Mr.  Trueman  : — 

"We  must  not  throw  away  a  chance,  sir,"  said  he  to 
our  hero,  "  with  Euj^hrosyne,  although  hers  is  a  poor  one ; 
she  is  a  difficult  mare  to  ride,  whereas  Rouge  wants  no 
riding  at  all,  beyond  keeping  her  straight  and  holding 
her  well  together.  She's  as  honest,  as,  I  fear,  the  other  is 
a  rogue." 

All  this,  however,  was  very  satisfactorily  explained 
about  an  hour  before  the  race,  and  in  the  following 
manner  : — 

Our  hero  was  accosted  on  the  course  by  a  person 
of  rather  mean  appearance,  but  having  a  good  deal  the 
look  and  character  of  what  is  called  a  "  leg,"  in  the  real 
acceptation  of  that  term. 

"  Pray,  sir,"  said  he,  "  are  you  not  Mr.  Raby  ? " 

"  I  am,"  he  replied. 

"  And  the  owner  of  two  fillies  in  this  race  ? " 

Our  hero  paused,  but  his  silence  M'as  thus  interrupted 
by  the  "leg":— 

'  "  I  know  all  about  them,  sir,"  resumed  he  ;  "  they  are 
both  your  fillies,  and  you  have  been  robhed !  I  saw  them 
tried,  and  I  have  no  doubt  but  that  Euphrosyne  is  five 
pounds  a  better  mare  than  Rouge.  As  for  myself,  I 
stand  to  win  upon  her,  and  have  laid  long  odds  against 
the  other,  which,  in  my  opinion,  is  as  big  a  jade  as  ever 
started  in  a  race." 

"  And  pray  who  are  you  ? "  asked  our  hero. 

"  No  matter  who  I  am,  sir,"  was  the  reply  ;  "you'll  find 
I  have  told  you  the  truth." 

"  Here  is  a  pretty  business,"  said  Raby,  as  he  galloped 


THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN        203 

up  to  Goodall,  whom  he  chanced  to  espy  on  the  course  ; 
"  for  God's  sake,  where  is  Dauntley  ? " 

"  What  do  you  want  with  him  in  such  a  hurry  ? "  asked 
Goodall. 

"  To  hedge  our  money  before  the  ring  breaks  up,"  was 
the  reply  ;  "  I  have  reason  to  believe  we  are  all  done  about 
Rouge,  who  has  not  a  chance  to  win,  and  the  other  filly 
has." 

The  upshot,  however,  was  this  : — Lord  Dauntley  could 
not  be  found  ;  neither  our  hero  nor  Goodall  had  any 
credit  in  the  ring,  which,  in  an  hour  from  that  time,  was 
broken  up ;  and  to  the  post  went  the  fillies.  The  race 
was  one  of  the  quickest  ever  seen  over  that  course. 
Euphrosyne  answering  every  stroke  of  the  whip  and  every 
dig  of  the  spur — struggling,  in  short,  to  the  very  last 
stride — was  only  beaten  by  a  head,  whereas  the  favourite 
was  at  the  extremity  of  the  tail,  or,  as  his  owner  said 
of  Eclipse's  competitors,  "  noichere."  And  the  summing 
up  of  the  case  was  this: — Mr.  Trueman  won  J6300  by 
backing  Rouge  to  lose,  the  money  being  laid  out  for  him 
by  a  friend  ;  and  if  Ephrosyne  had  won  the  race,  he 
would  have  pocketed  £3000  on  the  event — in  fact,  to 
use  his  own  words,  let  drop  when  very  drunk,  he  should 
from  that  hour  have  been  a  gentleman.  But  it  now  matters- 
little  :  Mr.  Trueman  went  to  his  account  without  having 
been  created  a  gentleman,  by  breaking  his  neck  down 
stairs,  when  in  a  state  of  beastly  intoxication  ;  and  our 
hero  purchased  a  lesson  at  no  very  great  cost. 

Now,  independently  of  the  lose  of  the  stakes,  and  the 
honour  of  being  a  winner  of  the  Oaks — an  honour  which, 
nevertheless,  must  in  this  case  have  lain  dormant  for 
a  time — there  was  one  very  provoking  circumstance  to 
Frank  Raby,  in  this  foul  transaction.  He  could  have 
sold  Rouge  for  1000  guineas,  on  the  strength  of  her 
place  in  the  betting,  whereas  she  was  now  worth  little  more 
than  as  many  half-crowns — in  fact,  she  was  soon  after- 
wards sold  at  about  that  figure.  Euphrosyne,  however, 
was  valuable,  and  might  have  been  sold  for  a  very 
considerable  sum.  To  get  rid  of  the  thing  altogether, 
however,  and  to  prevent  the  necessity  of  his  applying  to  a 
friend  to  enable  him  to  pay  the  bets  Lord  Dauntley  had 
made  for  him  at  Tattersall's,  and  to  discharge  Mr.  True- 
man's  bill,  he  accepted  an  offer  made  to  him,  through 
Trueman,  of  800  guineas  for  her,  which,  with  no  great 


204       THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN 

addition  from  his  own  present  resources,  enabled  him  to 
discharge  all  obligations — that  to  his  friend  Dauntley,  for 
the  original  purchase  of  the  fillies,  amongst  the  number. 
And  there  was  one  redeeming  quality  in  Mr.  Trueman, 
the  trainer  :  he  left  the  world  without  betraying  the 
secret  as  to  whom  these  fillies  belonged  ;  and  as  our  hero 
had  not  made  any  admission  to  the  "  leg,"  who  made  the 
disclosure  of  the  villainy,  it  never  came  to  light  until  he 
revealed  it  himself,  at  a  period  when  it  mattered  nothing 
if  all  the  world  knew  it. 

Horace  says,  "  Life  is  short,  and  we  should  gather  its 
roses  while  Fate  leaves  them  in  our  power  ; "  and  he  also 
says  (mistakenly,  I  think),  that  "the  charm  of  Fame 
consists  in  being  pointed  at,  and  having  it  said.  This  is  he ! " 
Kow,  I  do  not  think  that  our  hero  was  under  the  ban  of 
the  last-named  infirmity  ;  but  that  he  was  bent  upon 
gathering  the  roses  before  the  bloom  began  to  fade,  his 
late  proceedings  have  pretty  clearly  demonstrated.  As 
his  friend  Dauntley  and  himself,  then,  were  taking  a  ride 
together  in  the  park,  on  the  Thursday  after  the  Epsom 
meeting,  the  following  conversation  took  place  : — 

"I  may  consider  myself  very  fortunate,"  said  Frank 
Raby,  "  in  getting  out  of  my  racing  speculation  so  well  as 
I  have  done  ;  and  shall  be  very  cautious  how  I  enter  into 
another.  But  I  have  a  serious  undertaking  on  my  hands, 
which  must  be  accomplished  in  the  course  of  the  summer." 

"  What  is  that  1 "  said  Lord  Dauntley. 

"  I  must  lay  out  upwards  of  £1000  in  horseflesh,  and  I 
am  at  present  uncertain  whence  that  sum  will  be  forth- 
coming." 

"  My  good  fellow,"  said  his  Lordship,  "  you  need  be  so 
no  longer.  I  have  that  sum  at  your  service  any  day  you 
may  call  upon  me  for  it.  Nothing  is  more  grateful  to  me 
than  the  act  of  serving  a  friend  ;  indeed,  I  consider  that 
we  are  sent  here,  among  other  wise  purposes,  to  serve  each 
other  when  it  lies  in  our  power." 

"  A  thousand  thanks,  my  dear  Dauntley,"  replied  Eaby  ; 
"  but  I  must  not  trespass  further  on  the  kindness  of  my 
friends,  so  long  as  I  have  other  sources  to  fly  to  for  relief. 
Goodall  tells  me  he  can  recommend  me  to  a  respectable 
man  in  the  city,  who  will  advance  me  a  couple  of  thousand 
pounds  on  a  post-obit  security,  and  on  fair  terms.  I  am 
to  be  introduced  to  him  to-morrow." 

"Needs  must,  when  the  devil  drives,"  resumed  Lord 


THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN        205 

Dauntley  ;  "  but,  as  your  father  cannot  be  fifty,  you  will 
have  to  pay  a  heavy  bonus." 

"Yes,  but  there  is  my  uncle,  also,"  replied  our  hero. 
"  Goodall  says  the  contingency  may  be  made  to  embrace 
my  expectations  from  him." 

"  I  doubt  it,"  said  his  Lordship.  "  However,  if  you  do 
not  succeed  in  the  city,  you  know  where  to  come  ;  at  all 
events,  do  not  conclude  the  bargain  without  informing  me 
of  the  nature  of  it." 

At  the  appointed  hour  Goodall  met  our  hero  at  Limmer's, 
and  getting  into  a  dirty  hackney  coach,  proceeded  to  the 
city  on  an  equally  dirty  business,  and  in  due  time  arrived 
at  the  residence  of  Mr.  Sharpe,  a  member  of  the  honour- 
able profession  of  money  -  scriveners.  On  their  names 
being  announced  to  him,  they  were  shown  into  the  dining- 
room,  where  Mr.  Sharpe  almost  immediately  made  his 
appearance,  that  part  of  his  premises,  as  he  himself  said, 
being  better  fitted  than  the  "ofiice"  for  gentlemen  who 
came  to  him  "  on  matters  of  a  delicate  nature."  He  was 
a  middle-aged  man,  respectable  in  his  appearance,  possess- 
ing a  quick  eye,  and  altogether  a  very  intelligent  counten- 
ance. We  will  once  more  have  recourse  to  the  dialogical 
form,  in  describing  this  interview. 

"  Good  morning  to  ye,  gentlemen,"  said  Mr.  Sharpe  (on 
making  his  appearance) :  "  Mr.  Goodall,  I  believe." 

"  The  same,  sir,"  replied  Goodall. 

"  Then  I  presume,"  continued  Mr.  Sharpe,  "  this  gentle- 
man (bowing  to  our  hero)  is  Mr.  Raby.  1  beg,  gentlemen, 
you  will  be  seated." 

"  My  friend  Mr.  Eaby,  sir,"  said  Goodall,  "  is  in  want 
of  some  temporary  assistance,  and  having  been  recom- 
mended to  you  by  my  friend  Mr.  Thornton,  I  have  reason 
to  believe  you  will  render  it  to  him  upon  fair  and  honour- 
able terms." 

"  Sir,"  said  Mr.  Sharpe,  smirking  a  bow,  "  you  pay  me 
a  compliment ;  but  this  I  may  say  of  myself,  that,  from 
my  very  extensive  pecuniary  connections  in  this  great 
town,  I  have  the  means  of  rendering  gentlemen  accom- 
modation to  an  extent  not  within  the  reach  of — I  think  I 
may  say — any  other  man.  But  pray,  sir,  let  me  ask  you, 
is  your  friend  a  son  of  Mr.  Raby,  of  Amstead  Abbey  ? " 

"  He  is,"  replied  Goodall. 

"Then,"  resumed  Mr.  Sharpe,  "there  will  be  no  diffi- 
culty in  this  case.     I  foreclosed  a  mortgage  last  year,  on  a 


2o6        THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN 

property  adjoining  the  Amstead  estate,  and,  having  been 
some  weeks  in  the  neighbourhood,  know  all  about  Mr. 
Raby.  I  think,  sir,"  continued  he,  addressing  himself  to 
our  hero,  "  you  are  now  the  only  son." 

"  I  am,"  replied  Frank  ;  and,  as  he  spoke,  a  deep  flush 
came  over  his  face,  at  the  same  time  that  he  stifled  a  sigh, 
and  avoided  catching  the  eye  of  his  friend  Goodall. 

"Very  well,  sir ;  now  what  is  the  sum  you  are  in  want 
of?" 

"  Two  thousand  pounds." 

"  Oh,  sir,"  quoth  Mr.  Sharpe,  "  'tis  hardly  worth  while 
going  to  parchment  for  such  a  sum  as  that ;  suppose  we 
say  five  ? " 

"No,"  replied  Frank  Raby;  "I  only  want  £2000  at 
present." 

"  And  the  security  1 " 

"  A  post-obit." 

Mr.  Sharpe  first  squeezed  together  his  lips,  hard  enough 
to  have  cracked  a  hazel-nut,  and  then,  pouting  them  out 
on  a  level  with  the  end  of  his  nose,  looked  exceedingly 
wise — "  Post-obit !  Difficult  to  get  money  on  post-obit — 
that  is  to  sav,  on  fair  and  easy  terms  ;  would  not  annuity 
be  better?"" 

"  No,"  returned  Frank,  "  annuity  won't  do  ;  I  have  only 
an  allowance  from  my  father." 

"  Well,  sir,  then  we'll  say  no  more  on  that  subject.  You 
propose  a  bonus  on  the  death  of  your  father  ? " 

"  Yes,  or  my  uncle." 

"  Oh  !  you  have  an  uncle  ?  " 

"  I  have ;  and  as  he  has  never  been  married,  and  is 
nearly  as  old  as  my  father,  I  have  reason  to  believe  I  shall 
inherit  his  property." 

"Ah,  sir,"  said  Mr.  Sharpe,  with  a  sigh,  "  two  or  three 
young  gentlemen  I  have  had  to  deal  with,  have  helieved 
the  same  thing  of  their  uncles,  but  found  their  mistake 
when  they  died.  Old  uncles  are  ticklish  fellows  to  deal 
with  ;  if  you  please,  we  will  confine  ourselves  to  your 
father,  whose  estates  I  know  are  entailed  on  you.  Have 
you  ever  borrowed  money  before  ? " 

"  Never  ;  unless  it  was  a  hundred  or  so,  from  a  friend, 
which  I  repaid." 

"  Good,  sir  ;  and  what  do  you  expect  to  be  the  bonus 
upon  the  sum  you  propose  to  raise  ? " 

"  Let  us  hear  what  yoic  have  to  say,  Mr.  Sharpe." 


THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN        207 

"  Why,  let  me  see,"  said  Mr.  Sharpe  (placing  his  hand 
over  his  eyes,  and  resting  his  elbow  on  the  table) : — "  your 
father,  sir,  you  say,  is  fifty-two  years  old  ;  he  may  live 
another  fifty-two  years.  Then  (removing  his  hand  from 
his  eyes,  and  looking  at  our  hero)  your  father,  sir,  is,  I 
understand,  a  very  regular  liver,  entering  but  little  into 
the  dissipation  of  this  town  ;  on  the  contrary,  I  believe  he 
almost  altogether  lives  in  the  country,  devoting  himself  to 
hunting,  agriculture,  and  such-like  health-giving  pursuits. 
Then,  what  a  fine,  noble-looking  man  he  is  !  I  think,  Mr. 
Kaby,  he'll  hold  for  a  long  tug." 

"  I  hope  he  mav,"  replied  Frank  ;  "  but  tell  me  at  once 
what  you  expect  for  £2000  ? " 

"  Certainly  not  less  than  £5000,  all  circumstances  con- 
sidered." 

"  Then  be  it  so  ;  when  can  I  have  the  money  1 " 

"  In  a  fortnight  from  this  day  ;  you  shall  hear  from  me 
within  that  time,  to  appoint  the  day  and  hour  in  which 
the  money  will  be  forthcoming.  All,  then,  that  I  have  to 
add  is,  a  request  that  Mr.  Thornton  may  be  an  attesting 
witness  to  the  bond,  or,  indeed,  any  other  gentleman  w^ho 
is  known  to  both  parties,  merely  to  identify  the  person  of 
Mr.  Raby,  who  is,  of  course,  a  stranger  to  me." 

"Why,  to  be  sure,  we  are  both  strangers  to  you,  Mr. 
Sharpe,"  said  Goodall ;  "  but  there  can  be  no  objection  to 
call  upon  my  friend  Thornton,  on  whom  I  can  depend  for 
not  talking  about  this  affair,  which,  of  course,  Mr.  Raby 
wishes  to  be  kept  a  secret." 

"Oh,  sir,"  said  Mr.  Sharpe,  with  a  small  smile,  "  M?e 
never  talk  of  these  matters  ;  we  should  be  cutting  our  own 
throats."     And  so  exeunt  omnes. 

"  Well,  Raby,"  said  Lord  Dauntley  to  our  hero,  the  first 
time  they  met  after  this  visit  to  Mr.  Sharpe,  "  how  did 
you  get  on  with  the  money-lender  ?  What  are  you  to  give 
for  your  £2000  ? " 

"  What  do  you  think  ? "  was  the  reply. 

"  I  am  no  judge  of  such  things,"  answered  his  Lordship, 
"as  my  father  died  when  I  was  two  years  old.  All  I 
know  is,  you  must  mind  what  you  are  at ;  for  a  friend  of 
mine  was  nicely  humbugged  by  one  of  these  advertising 
money-lenders.  He  was  absolutely  obliged  to  take  tiuelve 
dozen  gross  of  cotton  stockings,  and  a  lot  of  vulgar  plate, 
which  he  did  not  want,  for  more  than  half  the  sum 
promised  him." 


2o8       THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN 

"There  is  no  fear  of  my  being  served  in  that  way," 
replied  Raby  ;  "  Mr.  Sharpe  seems  to  be  a  respectable 
man  ;  has  a  devilish  good  house  ;  and  keep  lots  of  clerks. 
I  am  to  give  £5000  for  £2000  cash  down." 

"Well,"  resumed  his  noble  friend,  "all  things  con- 
sidered, for  your  father  is  a  young  and  very  hale  man,  I 
do  not  think  that  is  much  out  of  the  way,  for  there  is  no 
small  risk  in  post-obit  bonds.  You  know  the  law  takes 
no  cognisance  of  the  bo7ius — that  is,  the  lender  can  only 
recover  the  principal  and  legal  interest  for  the  same." 

"  Indeed  ! "  exclaimed  our  hero,  somewhat  surprised 
at  the  assertion.  "  Still,  no  man,  wiih  the  feelings  of  a 
gentleman,  would  refuse  to  pay  the  bonus." 

"  Certainly  not,"  replied  Lord  Dauntley,  "  if  he  were 
fairly  dealt  with  in  the  transaction,  and  no  further 
advantage  taken  than  that  to  which  he  himself  had  been 
a  party." 

At  the  end  of  a  fortnight  from  the  visit  of  our  hero, 
with  Goodall,  to  the  city,  he  received  the  following  note 
from  Mr.  Sharpe  : — 

"Mr.  Sharpe  presents  his  respectful  compliments  to 
Mr.  Raby,  and  l)egs  to  inform  him  that  everything  is 
arranged  relating  to  the  post-obit  transaction  ;  and  will 
thank  Mr.  Raby  to  give  him  the  meeting  on  Thursday 
next,  at  two  o'clock  precisely,  at  No.  13  Edward  Street, 
Portman  Square,  where  the  gentleman  who  makes  the 
advance  resides." 

As  may  be  imagined,  our  hero  was  true  to  his  time,  and 
having  been  introduced  to  Mr.  Thornton,  who  acceded  to 
Mr.  Sharpe's  request,  made  his  appearance  in  Edward 
Street,  just  as  the  clock  struck  two,  expecting  to  find 
the  lawyer,  if  not  Mr.  Thornton,  there  before  him. 

It  happened,  however,  that  he  was  the  first ;  and  on 
inquiring  whether  Mr.  Longbottom  was  at  home,  was 
answered  by  a  smart  livery-servant  in  the  affirmative, 
and  to  whom  he  presented  his  card. 

"Walk  this  way,  if  you  please,  sir,"  said  John;  and 
he  conducted  him  to  the  front  drawing-room,  which  was 
not  only  elegantly  furnished,  but  had  its  walls  absolutely 
covered  with  large  and  apparently  well -executed  paintings. 

"  This  man  must  be  a  man  of  fortune,"  said  our  hero 
to  himself,  as  he  threw  his  eyes  round  the  room ;  "  I  think 
I  am  in  good  hands." 


THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN        209 

In  a  very  few  minutes  the  door  of  the  room  was  opened, 
and  a  tall,  thin,  unhealthy-looking  person  in  black,  with 
a  well-powdered  head,  walked  in,  with  our  hero's  card 
in  his  hand,  and  was,  of  course,  very  polite  to  his  guest. 

"You  are  punctual,  Mr.  Raby,"  said  he;  "I  like  to 
have  to  do  with  persons  who  are  punctual." 

"  But  where  is  Mr.  Sharpe  1 "  inquired  Frank. 

"Why  I  think  he  will  soon  be  here,  accompanied  by 
a  gentleman  whose  name  and  object  you  have  been  ac- 
quainted with,"  resumed  Mr.  Longbottom.  "  But  you  know, 
sir,  lawyers  like  Mr.  Sharpe,  in  a  large  way,  cannot  always 
command  their  ow^n  time.     Pray,  Mr.  Raby,  be  seated." 

"  Thank  ye,"  replied  Frank  Raby  ;  "  but  I  wish  to 
have  another  look  at  your  pictures.  I  admire  this,  much," 
pointing  to  an  historical  piece  of  very  large  dimensions. 

"  That  is  a  chef  d'ceuvre"  said  his'  host ;  "  I  gave  3000 
guineas  for  that  picture,  in  Rome." 

"  And  this,"  resumed  our  hero. 

"  A  Correggio,"  said  Longbottom. 

"  And  this,  how  beautiful !  " 

"  You  show  your  taste,  Mr.  Raby ;  that  picture  is  yours." 

"  Mine  !  !  !  " 

"Yes,  yours;  that  is  to  say,  merely  nominally  so. 
General  Jervis,  now  at  the  Bedford  Hotel,  in  Covent 
Garden,  is  to  give  you  700  guineas  ;  and  a  gentleman  of 
the  name  of  Crow  will  also  give  you  300  for  that  exquisite 
*  Holy  Family,'  by  Le  Brun,  which  will  just  make  up 
1000  guineas  of  the  money." 

On  hearing  this  our  hero  smelt  a  rat  ;  and,  taking  out 
his  watch,  thus  addressed  Mr.  Longbottom  : — 

"By  the  way,  Mr.  Longbottom,  I  want  to  leave  my 
card  on  a  friend  who  lives  in  the  square,  and  by  the 
time  I  return,  no  doubt  Mr.  Sharpe  and  Mr.  Thornton 
will  be  here.     So  good  morning,  for  the  present." 

The  bell  was  rung ;  the  door  opened  by  the  foot- 
man ;  and  exit  Frank  Raby,  with  these  words  in  his 
mouth  : — 

"  If  old  Sharpe's  head  never  aches  till  I  meet  him  at 
this  fellow's  house,  he  will  have  a  good  time  of  it." 

But  what  was  to  be  done  with  Mr.  Thornton,  whom 
our  hero  could  not  think  of  thus  leaving  in  the  lurch  ? 
Luckily  for  both  parties,  he  saw  him  at  the  other  end 
of  the  street,  and  told  him  what  had  passed  about  the 
pictures. 


2IO        THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN 

"  They  attempted  to  do  me  in  the  same  way,"  said  Mr. 
Thornton,  "and,  as  it  was,  I  was  obliged  to  take  £300 
worth  of  plate  which  I  did  not  want ;  but  they  are  un- 
reasonable in  your  case." 

"  Well,"  said  Frank  Eaby,  "  I  am  very  sorry  you  have 
been  brought  here  on  a  fool's  errand,  but  I  will  instantly 
write  a  note  to  Sharj)e,  and  tell  him  to  let  matters  rest 
till  he  hears  from  me  again ;  and  I  will  send  it  to  him 
at  Longbottom's."  Mr.  Thornton  approved  of  his  discre- 
tion, and  here  the  matter  ended  for  the  present. 

The  next  day  Frank  Raby  called  on  Lord  Dauntle}-,  to 
inform  him  of  the  result  of  his  visit  to  Edward  Street, 
and  at  the  conclusion  of  his  story  was  thus  addressed  by 
his  truly  noble  friend  : — 

"My  dear  Eaby,  have  nothing  more  to  do  in  this 
business.  As  I  told  you  before,  I  can  furnish  you  with 
the  £2000  without  the  least  inconvenience,  and  require 
no  other  security  than  a  common  bond.  I  would  advise 
you  to  get  Mr.  Thornton  to  make  your  peace  with  Mr. 
Sharpe,  by  paying  him  his  costs  in  preparing  the  bond, 
which  cannot  be  much,  as  the  value  of  stamps  to  un- 
executed deeds  is  not  enforced.  As  to  Mr.  Longbottom, 
with  his  chef  cVteuvre,  leave  him  to  his  fate  ;  he  will,  how- 
ever, be  aware  that  you  are  too  long-headed  for  him.  "Who 
Mr.  Crow  is,  I  know  not ;  but  General  Jervis  I  do  happen 
to  know,  and  am  quite  sure  that,  so  far  from  his  being 
at  the  Bedford  Hotel,  in  this  town,  and  able  to  give  700 
guineas  for  a  picture,  he  is  at  this  moment  playing  at 
hide-and-seek  with  the  bailiffs,  and  cannot  command  700 
shillings." 

"My  dear  Dauntley,"  replied  our  hero,  "you  are  too 
kind  ;  if  compelled  to  do  so,  I  will  accept  your  offer,  but 
I  still  have  one  more  move.  There  is  a  rich  old  miller 
on  the  Amstead  estate,  who,  I  have  reason  to  believe, 
will  lend  me  this  money,  on  a  common  bond,  with  an 
insurance  on  my  life,  which  I  should  be  willing  to  make, 
by  way  of  rendering  the  security  'undeniable,'  as  the 
lawyers  say.  I  will  write  to  him  this  evening." — And 
so  he  did,  to  the  following  purport : — 

"Limmer's  Hotel,  Bond  Street,  June  Uh,  1804. 
"Mr.  Grimes, — I  want  to  borrow  £2000  on  my  bond, 
for  which  I  will  pay  the  legal  interest,  and  make  an 
insurance  on  my  life,  if  you  think  it  necessary,  for  the 


THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN        211 

principal.  If  you  can  so  far  oblige  me,  do  it  quickly,  as 
I  want  to  purchase  some  hunters  against  next  season.  At 
all  events,  say  nothing  about  this  application  to  any  one 
— of  all  persons  in  the  world,  not  to  Rohson.  I  can  have 
the  bond  prepared  here,  which  will  be  better  than  em- 
ploying a  country  attorney. — In  haste,  yours,  &c., 

"Francis  Eaby. 
"To  Mr.  Grimes." 

An  answer  to  this  effect  was  returned  by  the  first  post : — 

"  AsHTON  Mills,  June  7th,  1804. 
"  Hon.  Sir, — I  am  sorry  to  hear  you  want  such  a  large 
sum  as  £2000.  Sure  you  been't  agoing  to  lay  it  out 
all  in  horses,  for  you  have  the  finest  in  the  country  now, 
by  odds.  Howsomever,  you  shall  have  the  money  by 
this  day  month,  on  the  conditions  you  propose  ;  and  on 
receiving  the  papers,  it  shall  be  paid  through  my  sales- 
man in  London,  so  that  nobody  will  know  nothing  about 
it.  I  am  glad  to  oblige  you,  sir,  and  don't  doubt  but 
you'll  be  kind  to  the  lads  when  I  am  gone.  No  more  at 
present  from,  hon.  sir, — Your  dutiful  servant, 

"John  Grimes. 

"  P.S. — As  I  loves  you,  Mr.  Francis,  as  the  apple  of 
my  eye,  don't  be  offended  at  my  saying  I  hopes  you 
won't  get  into  no  mischief  among  the  gambling  gentle- 
men in  London.  They  tells  me  they  are  too  sharj)  for 
us  country  people." 

How  is  it,  it  may  be  asked,  that  we  have  heard  nothing 
of  Sir  John  Inkleton,  the  friend  and  jDatron  of  our  hero, 
in  the  late  memorable  transactions  ?  How  is  it,  indeed, 
that  he  was  not  allowed  to  be  privy  to  them  ?  The 
answer  is — it  was  too  near  home  for  the  grand  secret  of 
the  racing  fillies,  as  also  the  transactions  with  Mr.  Sharpe, 
to  be  divulged  in  that  quarter.  Sir  John,  in  spite  of 
now  and  then  a  hint  from  Lady  Charlotte,  that  he  had 
"spoiled  Francis  for  a  younger  brother,"  was  a  great 
favourite  at  the  Abbey,  and,  although  considerably  his 
junior,  much  in  the  confidence  of  Mr.  Raby.  Nor  is 
this  the  extent  of  the  reason  why  he  was  kept  in  the 
dark.  Our  hero  knew  that  this  outbreak  of  his,  so  far 
from  being  approved   of,  would  have  been   discouraged 


212        THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN 

by  Sir  John,  who,  as  has  been  shown,  indulged  himself 
in  various  pursuits,  which  were  congenial  to  his  taste, 
and  one  of  them  of  an  expensive  nature — I  allude,  of 
course,  to  his  propensity  to  the  coach-box — still  he  was 
so  far  prudent  as  to  regulate  his  disbursements  according 
to  his  income  ;  in  other  words,  he  had  hitherto  lived 
within  his  means.  Nevertheless,  had  his  young  friend 
told  him  that  he  wanted  a  few  hundred  pounds  to  pur- 
chase hunters  with,  his  purse  would  have  been  liberally 
opened  to  him  for  the  purpose  ;  forasmuch  as  having,  in 
some  measure,  looked  upon  himself  as  his  preceptor  in 
matters  relating  to  the  field,  and  written  letters  in  praise 
of  him  to  his  friends  at  Melton,  he  was  anxious  he  should 
establish  his  character  in  that  country  as  a  first-rate 
horseman,  and — in  due  time — sportsman.  The  fact  is, 
then,  his  "  friend  Frank,"  as  he  always  called  him,  and 
himself,  were  not  of  the  same  party  during  the  Epsom 
meeting  of  this  year,  but  for  that  of  Ascot  he  was  booked 
for  the  box  place,  as  usual,  on  the  Baronet's  well  turned- 
out  coach,  which  went  to,  and  returned  from  the  course 
after  the  manner  already  described  during  the  last  year's 
races. 

Although  the  intimacy  between  Mr.  Beaumont  Eaby 
and  Sir  John  Inldeton  was  not  on  so  close  a  footing  as 
was  that  between  the  Squire  of  Amstead  and  the  Baronet, 
they  were  upon  very  friendly  terms,  and,  as  may  be 
supposed,  occasionally  exchanged  visits.  During  a  morn- 
ing call,  when  no  one  besides  themselves  was  present, 
the  following  expression  of  sentiments  passed  between 
them  : — 

"  I  think,  Inkleton,"  said  Mr.  Kaby,  with  a  smile,  "  I 
am  indebted  to  you  for  the  disappointment  I  have  ex- 
perienced in  the  character  and  prospects  of  my  hopeful 
nephew,  Frank.  You  have  given  him  such  a  taste  for 
hunting  and  driving,  that  I  fear  he  is  likely  to  abandon 
all  other  pursuits  for  which  his  education  has  fitted,  and 
to  which  his  duty  calls,  him.  Of  course  you  are  aware  I 
could  not  persuade  him  to  go  abroad  on  a  tour,  which 
every  young  Englishman  with  his  expectations  ought  to 
do  ;  and  he  also  refuses  to  go  into  Parliament,  although  I 
have  the  offer  of  a  borough  for  him,  without  a  shilling 
expense.  Now,  as  I  have  often  told  him,  I  object  not  to 
his  being  a  sportsman,  and  he  may  drive  his  own  coach, 
when  he  has  one,  if  he  thinks  he  can  do  it  better  than  his 


THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN        213 

coachman  ;  but  I  did  hope  to  see  him  something  beyond 
a  sportsman  and  a  coachman — qualified,  in  fact,  which  I 
cannot  at  present  consider  him,  for  the  useful  and  elegant 
intercourse  of  common  life,  in  the  first  place,  and  service- 
able to  his  country,  in  the  next." 

"  You  do  me  honour,"  replied  the  Baronet,  also  with  a 
smile  on  his  countenance,  "  by  attributing  to  me  influence 
over  a  mind  so  capable  of  judging  for  itself  as  that  of  our 
friend  Frank  is.  His  coaching  propensities  may,  perhaps, 
be  laid  at  my  door  ;  but  when  you  recollect  that  his 
father  sent  him  a-hunting  before  he  was  twelve  years  old, 
I  plead  not  guilty  to  the  other  charge.  As  to  his 
declining  going  abroad,  I  confess  I  agree  with  him  that, 
without  a  better  knowledge  of  foreign  languages  than  he 
possesses,  it  would  be  two  years  of  his  life  wasted,  which 
I  certainly  considered  to  have  been  the  case  with  myself, 
because  my  heart  was  all  the  time  at  home,  where  his,  I  am 
sure,  would  be  also.  And  then,  with  respect  to  his  being 
in  Parliament,  I  scarcely  knov/  what  to  say  on  that 
subject.  To  be  sure,  one  reason  for  declining — that  of 
being  occasionally  interrupted  by  a  call  of  the  House  in 
the  hunting  season — is  of  rather  a  childish  nature.  If 
every  gentleman  were  to  refuse  to  sacrifice  a  few  of  the 
comforts  of  life  to  his  duty  to  his  country,  where  should 
we  find  statesmen  to  carry  on  the  business  of  the  country  ? 
Still,  it  is  my  opinion  there  should  be  a  kind  of  ad  valorem 
consideration  here  ;  a  man  may,  I  think,  with  propriety 
say  this  to  himself  : — '  By  going  into  Parliament  I  shall 
make  a  great  personal  sacrifice,  and  the  cjuestion  is,  shall 
I  be,  beyond  the  value  of  my  vote,  worth  anything  when 
I  get  there  ?  Had  I  not  better  (supposing  him  to  be 
aware  that  he  will  be  of  no  further  value  than  by  his 
vote)  leave  the  vacant  place  to  be  filled  by  some  one  who 
is  better  qualified  than  I  am  for  so  important  a  situation  ? ' 
And,  friend  Beaumont,"  continued  the  Baronet,  "as  you 
are  fond  of  a  classical  allusion,  I  refer  you  to  some- 
thing like  a  case  in  point,  in  ancient  days.  Xenophon 
describes  Socrates  in  conversation  with  a  very  young  man, 
whom  he  knew,  and  who  was,  at  that  time,  soliciting  for 
a  principal  post  in  the  army.  To  what  does  he  compare 
him?  To  a  sculptor  who  undertakes  to  form  a  statue, 
without  having  learnt  the  statuary's  art !  '  In  time  of 
war,'  adds  the  sage,  '  no  less  than  the  safety  of  the  whole 
community  is  intrusted  to  the  general ;  and  it  is  in  his 


214        THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN 

power,  either  to  procure  to  it  many  and  great  advantages, 
by  a  prudent  discharge  of  the  duties  of  his  station,  or 
involve  his  country,  through  misconduct,  in  the  very 
deepest  distress ;  and,  therefore,  that  man  must  be 
worthy  of  no  small  punishment  who,  whilst  he  is  un- 
wearied in  his  endeavours  to  obtain  this  honour,  takes 
little  or  no  thought  about  qualifying  himself  properly  for 
executing  a  trust  of  such  vast  importance.' " 

"  I  remember  the  passage  you  allude  to,"  replied  Mr. 
Beaumont  Kaby,  "and  also  that  the  lecture  of  Socrates 
wrought  so  powerfully  on  the  young  gentleman,  that  he 
immediately  applied  himself  to  the  gaining  instruction, 
which  qualified  him  for  the  post ;  and  why  should  not 
my  nephew  have  done  so  also  ?  The  history  of  our 
country  tells  us  that  youth  is  no  bar  to  a  display  of 
either  talent  or  of  action  ;  and,  if  you  recollect,  when 
Homer  calls  Agamemnon  venerable,  it  is  not  in  reference 
to  his  years,  but  to  his  knowledge  and  acquirements." 

"Well,"  resumed  the  Baronet,  "all  I  can  say  on  the 
subject  is,  that,  amongst  my  acquaintance  (indeed,  I 
might  have  been  in  the  House  myself,  but  I  was  aware  of 
my  own  incapacity  to  do  good),  three  very  good  fellows, 
in  their  way,  had  seats  in  Parliament  as  soon  as  they 
came  of  age  ;  but  I  have  yet  to  learn  that  either  of  them 
did  anything  beyond  the  value  of  their  vote.  One  of 
them,  in  fact,  disappointed  me ;  for,  being  rather  a 
cleverish  fellow,  I  thought  he  would  have  made  a  good 
speech,  and  knowing  it  was  his  intention  to  make  one,  I 
went  into  the  gallery  one  night  to  hear  him.  But  what 
was  the  result  ?  In  the  first  place,  having  had  a  dinner 
party  that  evening,  he  was  more  than  half  drunk ;  and 
knowing  that  the  motion  he  was  about  to  speak  on  would 
not  be  called  till  after  midnight,  he  went  first  to  the 
Opera.  Now,  whether  it  was  that,  being  musical,  the 
fine  singing  of  Catalani  had  quite  bothered  his  brains,  or 
the  eftect  of  wine,  I  cannot  pretend  to  say,  but  this  I 
know,  he  made  sad  work  of  it.  He  not  only  hemm'd 
and  ha'd  to  an  extent  scarcely  ever  heard  before  ;  kept 
turning  and  twisting  about  his  cocked  hat  as  if,  as  Addison 
humorously  says,  he  had  been  cheapening  a  beaver,  instead 
of  addressing  a  senate  ;  but  at  length  got  so  bewildered 
among  the  phenomena  of  his  own  theory,  that,  luckily 
perhaps  for  him,  his  voice  was  so  far  drowned  between 
the  'hear,  hear'  of  his  friends,  and  the  coughs  of  his 


THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN        215 

enemies,  that  not  a  syllable  he  uttered  could  be  heard  by 
the  House.  Being  a  good  plucked  one,  however,  he  would 
not  sit  down  until  a  friend  in  his  rear  pulled  him  into 
his  seat  by  his  skirts,  to  the  amusement  of  those  who 
witnessed  it.  Still,"  continued  Sir  John,  "there  are 
striking  exceptions  to  this  rule — none,  perhaps,  more  so 
than  in  your  own  person,  in  your  maiden  speech  on  the 
slave  trade." 

"  I  thank  you  for  the  compliment,"  observed  Mr.  Kaby, 
"although  I  see  in  it  an  unintentional  rebuke.  I  was 
certainly  successful  in  my  first  essay  ;  but  being  aware 
that  to  have  followed  up  this  success,  would  have  imposed 
upon  me  labours  that  a  naturally  indolent  disposition 
was  unwilling  to  submit  to  ;  and  being  averse  to  the 
attempt  at  doing  anything  by  halves,  I  gave  up  politics 
at  once  :  and  in  one  respect  I  am  a  gainer.  I  have  retained 
the  friendship  of  men  for  whom  I  have  the  highest  regard, 
but  which,  being  opposed  to  them  in  my  views,  would 
have  been  endangered  in  the  heat  of  political  warfare  and 
debate.  However,  to  return  to  the  original  object  of 
introducing  the  conversation  respecting  Frank.  As  you 
have  decidedly  an  influence  over  him,  let  me  beseech  you 
to  use  it  in  impressing  on  him  moderation  in  his  pursuits, 
and  not  to  forget  that,  one  day  or  another — and  no  one 
knows  how  soon — he  may  be  called  upon  to  fulfil  duties 
of  no  ordinary  kind.  Again,  I  am  rather  inclined  to 
believe  he  has  somewhat  of  an  extravagant  turn,  which 
may  lead  him  into  difficulties  unexpectedly  ;  for  I  hear 
he  has  already  added  two  hunters  to  his  stud — talks  of 
purchasing  others — and  has  taken  apartments  and  stables 
at  Melton  for  the  forthcoming  hunting  season." 

"  Well,  Eaby,"  said  the  Baronet ;  "  you  have  now  paid 
me  a  compliment,  in  return  for  one  which  is  justly  your 
due.  With  regard  to  expense,  I  have  always  instilled 
upon  Frank's  mind — at  least,  whenever  an  opportunity 
offered — the  advantage  of  living  within  one's  income, 
inasmuch  as  the  exceeding  it  is  the  bane  of  all  real 
comfort ;  and,  believing  example  to  be  much  better  than 
precept,  I  have  shown  him,  in  black  and  white,  that  I 
live  considerably  within  mine.  As  to  his  stud,  I  think 
that,  with  his  allowance  of  £800  a  year  from  his  father, 
the  run  of  the  Abbey  for  himself  and  his  horses  in  the 
summer,  and  an  occasional  tip  from  his  kind  uncle  (here 
the  uncle  smiled,  which,  of  course,  implied  assent),  he 


2i6       THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN 

may  afford  to  increase  it  to  six,  and  a  hack  or  two ;  and 
without  that  number  he  would  cut  a  very  poor  figure  at 
Melton,  and  not  a  good  one  with  it.  And  as  for  his 
going  to  Melton,  why  I " 

"  Yes,  but,  my  good  Inkleton,  he  has,  I  hear,  taken  stalls 
for  ien,"  interrupted  Mr.  Beaumont  Raby. 

"  Has  he  ? — still  it  does  not  exactly  follow  that,  because 
a  man  takes  a  ten-stalled  stable,  he  is  obliged  to  put  a 
horse  into  every  stall,"  replied  Sir  John  ;  '''nor  has  he 
intimated  as  much.  But  since  you  have  mentioned  the 
subject  to  me,  Raby,  permit  me  to  deliver  my  opinion  on 
it,  and  that  without  reserve  : — Let  him  have  his  ten  hunters, 
if  such  he  his  wish ;  and  do  you  help  him  to  buy  and  keep 
them.  You  will  not,  I  am  certain,  have  occasion  to  repent 
of  the  act.  If  a  young  man  attempt  anything,  let  him 
try  to  do  it  well  ;  and  this,  I  am  sure,  is  a  maxim  which 
you  must  approve.  It  equally  applies  to  hunting,  as  to 
any  other  pursuit ;  and  let  me  advise  you,  as  you  helped 
to  send  your  nephew  to  the  fountain-head  of  learning, 
where  the  best  society  was  likely  to  be  met  with,  to  send 
him  to  the  fountain-head  of  fox-hunting,  which  Melton 
surely  is,  and  where  advantages  are  to  be  looked  for 
similar  to  those  thought  so  much  of  at  Oxford.  You 
know  you  doat  on  Frank  ;  he  is  a  noble-hearted  fellow ; 
you  will  be  delighted  in  making  him  happy ;  so  at  once 
open  your  purse-strings,  and  do  so.  Give  him  a  few 
hundreds  towards  purchasing  his  horses,  and  add  another 
hundred  or  two  to  his  allowance." 

"Your  logic,  Inkleton,  is  certainly  good,"  said  the 
uncle  ;  "  you  have  taken  it  from  a  great  authority  :  Dr. 
Johnson  has  told  us,  that  whatever  is  worth  doing  at  all, 
is  worth  trying  to  do  well.  I  confess  I  like  what  I  have 
seen  of  the  Melton  men  ;  they  are  sportsmen  and  gentle- 
men ;  and  although  I  could  have  wished  to  have  seen 
Frank  a  little  higher  up  in  the  tree  of  life,  I  will 
endeavour  that  he  shall  preserve  the  place  he  has  allotted 
to  himself.  I  will,  then,  yield  to  your  suggestions  ;  I 
will  give  him  £500  towards  purchasing  his  horses,  and 
will  add  £200  a  year  to  his  allowance." 

As  may  be  imagined,  the  Baronet  was  not  slow  in 
communicating  this  good  news  to  his  young  friend,  who 
felt,  as  he  ought  to  have  felt,  the  kindness  of  both  parties. 
Nor  was  it  without  its  good  effect  on  Frank  Raby,  inas- 
much as,  in  the  overflow  of  his  heart,  he  determined  upon 


THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN        217 

making  known  to  each  of  his  benefactors  the  affair  of  the 
fillies,  and  the  result  of  their  racing  career,  appending 
thereunto  a  promise  that,  until  he  was  in  circumstances 
better  suited  to  the  pursuit,  he  had  taken  his  leave  of 
racing.  But  how  did  the  uncle  relish  this  outbreak  of  our 
young  sportsman,  and  the  somewhat  clandestine  spirit  in 
which  it  had  been  carried  on  ?  The  fact  is,  he  was  so 
much  pleased  with  the  subsequent  ingenuous  deportment 
of  his  dearly-beloved  Frank,  when  detailing  the  various 
circumstances  as  they  occurred  and  related  to  himself,  as 
the  sufferer  ;  and  more  especially  so  with  the  small  share 
of  vituperation  bestowed  by  him  on  the  scoundrel  who  had 
handled  him  so  mercilessly,  that  he  merely  made  use  of 
this  short  expression  : — 

"  Well,  Frank,  let  all  this  be  forgotten  ;  you  were  in  a 
serious  scrape,  which,  no  doubt,  will  be  a  warning  to  you, 
and  you  got  out  of  it  much  better  than  might  have  been 
expected." 

The  Baronet  and  his  young  friend  having  passed  the  even- 
ing of  this  day  together,  the  former  took  an  opportunity 
of  expressing  himself  nearly  in  the  following  words  : — 

"If  you  will  follow  my  advice,  Frank,  I  should 
recommend  you  to  abandon  your  present  purpose  of 
visiting  Melton  Mowbray  next  season,  and  I  know  a 
man  who  will  take  the  stables  you  have  engaged  off  your 
hands.  I  do  this  from  a  regard  to  your  comfort  and  good 
name,  being  convinced,  from  experience,  which  is  our 
best  preceptor,  after  all,  in  matters  of  this  kind,  that  your 
present  income  is  not  equal  to  the  expenses  of  such  an 
establishment  as  you  would  require  at  that  place.  You 
would  not  like  to  be  in  the  background  among  your 
compeers,  and  nothing  under  a  stud  of  ten  efficient  hunters 
would  keep  you  in  the  same  rank  with  them.  Six  good 
ones  will  be  enough  in  almost  all  other  countries  but 
Leicestershire  ;  and,  were  I  in  your  place,  I  would  content 
myself,  for  a  few  years,  with  what  the  Melton  men  call 
'the  provincials,'  making  an  annual  visit  to  Melton  at 
the  conclusion  of  the  season,  if  you  like  it,  when  the 
ploughed  countries  get  dry,  and  the  sport  they  show, 
consequently,  becomes  rare.  I  would  recommend  you  to 
the  following  packs  : — to  those  of  the  Duke  of  Beaufort 
and  Sir  Thomas  Mostyn,  in  Oxfordshire ;  to  that  of  Mr. 
Corbet,  in  Warwickshire  ;  of  Mr.  Musters,  in  Nottingham- 
shire ;  of  Lord  Darlington  and  Mr.  Ralph  Lambton,  in 


2i8        THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN 

Durliam ;  Mr.  Leche  and  Sir  Ricliard  Puleston,  in 
Cheshire  ;  Mr.  Farquharson,  in  Dorsetshire  ;  Lord  Fitz- 
william,  in  Huntingdonshire  and  Cambridgeshire  ;  and 
Lord  Vernon,  in  the  Atherstone  country.  The  masters  of 
these  hounds  are  all  of  them  eminent  sportsmen,  and,  by 
a  close  observance  of  their  proceedings,  you  will  learn 
much,  and  be  better  able  to  appreciate  what  you  may 
afterwards  experience  in  countries  more  distinguished  for 
their  capability  of  showing  sport,  and  which,  perhaps, 
deservedly  stand  at  the  head  of  all  others." 

This  somewhat  unwelcome  advice  was  listened  to  with 
attention  by  our  hero,  rendered  the  less  welcome,  in  fact, 
by  the  recent  publication  of  the  Billesden  Coplow  poem, 
by  Mr.  Lowth,  which  not  only  added  greatly  to  the  re- 
putation of  Leicestershire  as  a  hunting  country,  but,  from 
its  spirit-stirring  lines,  had  very  much  increased  his  desire 
to  make  one  of  the  many  choice  spirits  whose  names  and  ex- 
ploits gave  birth  to  them.^  His  good  sense,  however,  at 
length  got  the  mastery  over  his  desires,  and,  to  the  great 
satisfaction  of  the  Baronet,  he  yielded  to  his  friendly  advice. 

1  As  Horace  says  of  Anacreon,  to  relish  this  poem  we  should 
transport  ourselves,  in  idea,  to  the  time  in  which  it  was  written  ; 
but  one  of  its  great  recommendations  is,  the  author  having  been 
an  eye-witness  of  a  great  part  of  what  he  relates.  As  the  poet 
says : — 

"He  on  whose  natal  hour  the  queen 

Of  verse  hath  smiled,  shall  never  grace 
The  Isthmian  gauntlet,  or  be  seen 
First  in  the  famed  Olympic  race  ; " 

and  that  Mr.  Lowth  did  not  go  to  the  end  of  this  terrible  run, 
is  not  a  matter  of  surprise  ;  for  it  took  place  over,  perhaps,  the 
severest  part  of  all  the  Quorn  country.  There  are  a  few 
typographical  inaccuracies  in  the  last  edition  published  (although 
they  appeared,  I  believe,  in  the  original  one),  such  as  Wardle  for 
Wardell,  and  "  short  home  "  for  "sweet  home."  The  first-named 
error  led  to  the  confounding  the  late  Colonel  Wardle,  of  Mary  Ann 
Clarke  notoriety,  with  the  person  intended  to  be  introduced — viz., 
the  late  Jacob  Wardell,  who,  although  not  making  a  conspicuous 
figure  here,  became,  afterwards,  a  first-flight  man,  and  sold  one  of 
his  hunters  for  800  guineas  —  a  great  price  in  those  days — in 
consequence  of  his  carrying  him  through  a  famous  run.  Again,  for 
the  sake  of  the  rhyme,  justice  is  not  done  to  the  Hon.  Martin 
Eawke,  who  is  said  to  have  been  reduced  to  a  %ca2k,  whereas, 
although  that  might  have  occurred  at  one  period  of  the  run,  I  have 
good  reason  to  know  that  he  was  iip  at  the  end  of  it,  and  rode  his 
mare  afterwards  to  Melton,  twenty-one  miles,  in  company  with  the 
late  Mr.  Germaine. 


THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN        219 


CHAPTER  XIII 

A  season  with  Sir  Thomas  Mostyn,  in  the  Bicef^ter  country,  with 
anecdotes  of  some  of  the  leading  sportsmen  in  the  provinces  at 
that  day,  and  a  glance  at  "home,  sweet  home." 

THE  summer  having  passed  away  much  in  the  same 
manner  in  which  summers  have  since  done,  and  our 
hero  having  partaken  of  the  amusements  of  London  up 
to  a  certain  period,  and  of  the  partridge  and  pheasant- 
shooting  at  the  Abbey,  in  the  autumn,  he  commenced  his 
winter  career  under  very  favourable  circumstances.  He 
had  a  stud  of  seven  hunters,  strong,  but  not  deficient  in 
blood,  together  with  a  capital  hack,  bred  by  his  father,  by 
an  Arabian  sire  out  of  a  strong  English  mare.  Moreover, 
he  had  himself  a  naturally  strong  constitution,  con- 
sequently, excellent  health,  and,  thanks  to  the  liberality  of 
his  relations,  a  fair  account  at  his  banker's.  With  a  light 
heart,  then,  and  well-braced  nerves,  he  followed  his 
horses  to  the  humble  town  of  Bicester,  twelve  miles  from 
Oxford,  on  the  Buckingham  road,  where  he  found  a  few 
sportsmen  collected  together  for  the  same  purpose  as  his 
own ;  namely,  to  enjoy  the  pleasures  of  the  chase  in  a 
country  of  which  he  had  had  some  experience  during  his 
residence  at  the  University  of  Oxford. 

Neither  was  Frank  Raby  disappointed  in  the  object  now 
in  his  view.  He  obtained  an  introduction  to  the  master 
of  the  pack,  a  good,  honest  Welshman,  of  plain,  unaffected 
manners,  but  of  extremely  gentlemanlike  deportment^ 
and  in  every  way  qualified  for  the  situation  he  filled.  A 
single  man,  possessed  of  £20,000  a  year,  and  with  no  other 
heavy  expenses  but  his  hounds,  he  was  able  to  do  the 
thing  with  spirit,  and  with  spirit  was  it  done  throughout. 
He  had  a  full  complement  of  hounds,  and  a  good  stable  of 
horses  ;  and  the  utmost  regularity  was  observed  in  every 
part  of  the  establishment.  But  what  most  struck  our 
young  sportsman,  as  regarded  the  establishment,  was,  the 
perfect  little  Welsh  colony  that  was  established  in  this 
part  of  England  by  Sir  Thomas  Mostyn  and  his  connec- 
tions, brought  with  them,  at  different  periods,  from  North 
Wales.  The  connections  consisted  of  Sir  Edward  Lloyd, 
since  created  Lord   Mostyn,  who  married  the  Baronet's 


220       THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN 

sister,  and  at  length  succeeded  to  his  property  ;  and  Mr. 
Griffith  Lloyd,  his  brother,  a  fellow  of  All  Souls,  Oxford, 
both  good  sportsmen.  As  may  be  expected,  more  Welsh 
gentlemen  occasionally  sojourned  in  the  neighbourhood, 
for  the  sake  of  hunting  with  their  countryman,  who  was 
deservedly  popular  amongst  them  all. 

But  the  great  object  of  attraction  in  the  eyes  of  Frank 
Raby  was  the  huntsman  to  this  pack,  the  very  celebrated 
Shaw,  who  afterwards  hunted  the  Belvoir  hounds  with  so 
much  spirit  and  eclat.  There  was  a  peculiarity  in  his 
manner  of  hunting  his  hounds  which  was  quite  unlike 
anything  he  had  ever  before  seen,  as  well  as  a  quickness, 
almost  approaching  to  wildness,  in  his  motions,  that  could 
not  be  lost  upon  anyone  who  was  capable  of  common 
observation.  And  to  show  the  repute  he  was  in  as  a 
huntsman,  and  the  value  put  on  his  services  by  his  master, 
his  salary — for  wages  would  be  an  improper  term  for  such 
an  annual  sum,  although  paid  to  a  person  occupying  what 
may  be  called  a  menial  situation — was  £300  per  annum, 
with  a  servant  to  arrange  his  apartment !  And  then  his 
horsemanship  also  surprised  Frank  Raby.  There  was  an 
ease  and  elegance  in  his  seat  not  often  witnessed  even  in 
the  higher  orders  of  life,  together  with  a  quickness  that 
kejDt  him  always  in  his  place,  and  this  with  a  pack  noted, 
as  that  of  Sir  Thomas  Mostyn  was,  in  those  days,  for  going 
a  racing  pace  whenever  the  scent  served.  And  he  was 
told  of  an  extraordinary  circumstance  that  occurred  to 
Shaw,  which  made  a  lasting  impression  on  his  mind.  He 
first  commenced  hunting  Sir  Thomas  Mostyn's  hounds  in 
what  is  called  the  Woore  country,  comprising  parts  of 
Staffordshire  and  Cheshire,  previously  to  their  removal 
into  Oxfordshire.  It  so  happened,  at  this  time,  that, 
partly  from  a  scarcity  of  foxes,  and  partly  from  ill-luck 
in  not  catching  them,  the  space  of  seventeen  days  had 
passed  over  without  his  hounds  tasting  blood.  Having, 
then,  marked  a  fox  to  ground  in  an  earth  on  the  side  of  a 
bank,  Shaw  determined  on  digging  to  him,  although  the 
night  had  commenced,  and  the  assistance  of  lanthorns  had 
become  necessary.  At  length  he  got  him  in  his  hand,  not 
a  little  to  his  satisfaction,  and,  throwing  him  to  the  pack, 
who  were  below  him,  on  very  slanting  ground,  and 
hallooing  "  TVho-hoop ! "  most  lustily,  expected  to  see  him 
devoured.  But  no  ;  the  nature  of  the  ground  favoured 
him  ;  the  hounds  overshot  their  mark,  and  reynard  rolling 


THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN        221 

himself  over,  escaped  all  their  mouths ;  and  bade  them, 
for  the  present,  good  night.  As  may  be  supposed,  there 
was  no  stopping  the  pack  with  a  fox  so  near  to  them  as 
this  was  ;  and  away  they  went  in  the  dark,  through 
several  strong  covers,  without  anyone  being  able  to  follow 
them,  many  not  returning  to  the  kennel  until  the  next 
morning. 

The  name  of  Eaby,  added  to  some  little  reputation  our 
hero  had  already  gained  in  the  hunting  world,  was  a 
passport  sufficient  to  introduce  him  into  the  best  society 
of  this  part  of  Oxfordshire.  Neither  could  he  have  fixed 
on  a  better  place,  in  some  respects,  to  have  made  what 
might  be  called  his  debut  in  the  hunting  world,  with  a 
perfectly  organized  establishment,  and  with  a  view  to 
future  proceedings.  In  the  first  place,  that  part  of 
Oxfordshire  called  the  Bicester  country  is  one  in  which  a 
man  attains  useful  lessons  on  riding  to  hounds,  inasmuch 
as,  from  the  depth  of  its  soil,  the  strength  of  its  fences, 
and  its  numerous  brooks,  it  is  by  no  means  one  that  can 
be  trifled  with  ;  on  the  contrary,  it  requires  a  good  horse- 
man, on  a  good  horse,  to  be  enabled  to  live  well  over  it 
with  hounds.  In  the  next,  he  reaped  the  benefit  of  good 
example  in  some  of  the  conspicuous  members  of  the 
Mostyn  Hunt,  at  that  period  comprising  some  of  the  first 
horsemen  of  the  age.  For  example,  the  present  Earl  of 
Jersey,  then  Lord  Villiers,  would  often  be  seen  at  the 
cover  side,  previously  to  his  removing  his  stud  to  Melton 
for  the  season  :  Sir  Henry  Peyton  was  then  in  his  prime, 
and,  taking  a  season  throughout,  was  not  to  be  beaten  by 
any  man — when  on  Watchmaker  especially,  on  whom  he 
took  a  leap,  of  which  a  drawing  was  made,  and  a  plate  from 
it,  in  the  "  Sporting  Magazine."  It  was  a  stile,  with  a 
brook  on  the  landing  side,  over  which  was  a  long  foot- 
bridge, all  of  which  he  cleared,  and  stopped  the  whole 
field.  The  late  Mr.  Harrison,  of  Shelswell,  a  few  miles 
from  Bicester,  was  also  a  beautiful  horseman,  and  had  a 
stable  of  capital  horses,  no  price  stopping  him.  The 
Lloyds  (brothers)  were  likewise  good,  the  elder  (the 
Baronet)  especially  at  water.  The  celebrated  Mr.  Davey 
would  also  occasionally  be  seen  with  these  hounds  on  the 
Northamptonshire  side  of  the  country,  over  which,  being 
the  strongest  almost  in  England,  he  was  much  given  to 
shine.  To  prepare  him  for  Billesden  Coplow,  too,  the 
quickness  of  Shaw  in  his  saddle,  when  hounds  ran  hard, 


222        THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN 

was  by  no  means  disadvantageous  to  our  young  sportsman 
as  an  example. 

And  what  did  Frank  Raby  think  of  the  hounds  ?  His 
sentiments  on  this  subject  shall  be  exhibited  in  the 
following  letter  to  his  friend  Hargrave,  who  was  at  that 
time  hunting  in  Essex  : — 

' '  Bicester,  November  20th,  1810. 

"  Dear  Hargrave, — I  have  spent  the  month  of  Nov- 
ember at  this  place,  hunting  with  Sir  Thomas  Mostyn's 
hounds,  and  occasionally  with  those  of  the  Dukes  of 
Beaufort  and  Grafton,  when  they  meet  within  reach.  I 
like  the  country  much ;  it  looks  like  a  fox-hunting 
country,  especially  in  the  neighbourhood  of  the  See  Woods, 
and  the  Quarters,  where  the  foxes  are  capital,  and  generally 
show  runs.  The  Northamptonshire  side  of  it  is  superb, 
but  infernally  strong  as  to  fences,  with  the  river  Charwell 
passing  through  it.  I  saw  a  splendid  run  over  it  last 
Friday,  from  Boddington  Hill  to  Abdy  Wood,  in  the 
Pytchley  country,  fifteen  miles  as  the  crow  flies,  and  with 
only  one  check.  Very  few  saw  the  finish,  but  I  was  one 
of  the  few,  on  the  General,  who  went  well  to  the  end,  and 
only  gave  me  one  fall.  When  you  come  here  you  must 
bring  horses  of  power  as  well  as  blood,  on  account  of  the 
depth  of  the  country  in  many  parts  ;  and  also  good  water 
jumpers,  as  there  are  many  brooks.  It  is  not  uncommon 
to  meet  with  half  a  dozen  in  a  day  ;  and  to  convince  you 
of  the  truth  of  what  I  say,  I  counted  seven  bridges  on  the 
road  from  Gallows  Bridge  to  Bicester,  a  distance  of  only 
eight  miles. 

"  I  like  the  people  also.  Mostyn  is  a  perfect  gentleman, 
both  in  appearance  and  manners.  The  Lloyds  are  good 
sportsmen  ;  '  Griff",'  as  he  is  called  (his  Christian  name  is 
Griffith,  a  Welsh,  but  not  a  high-sounding,  prenomen), 
especially,  who  is  said  to  have  the  quickest  eye  to  a  heavy 
vixen,  in  the  spring  of  the  year,  of  any  man  going,  and 
capital  in  a  wood.  He  takes  rather  an  active  part  in  the 
field,  as  well  as  in  the  kennel,  not  much  to  the  delight  of 
Shaw,  as  I  am  told,  who  has  anticipated  injury  to  the  pack 
by  his  being  too  much  prejudiced  to  one  sort  of  hound. 
For  example  :  there  is  a  beautiful  bitch  called  Lady,  whose 
picture,  with  her  cubs,  is  in  almost  every  house  in  the 
county,  and  from  which,  and  her  produce,  there  are  a 
great  number  of  hounds  in  the  kennel — more  than  should 


THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN        223 

be,  good  judges  say.  Some  persons  will  tell  you  a  pack  of 
foxhounds  should  seem  to  be  all  of  one  family  ;  but  I  think 
that  characteristic  should  only  extend  to  the  look,  as 
breeding  too  much  in-and-in,  as  it  is  called,  will  not  do 
with  either  the  human  or  brute  race,  and  no  doubt  the 
objection  extends  to  the  canine.  Whether  it  be  from  that 
cause,  or  otherwise,  I  cannot  say,  but  these  hounds  have 
not  much  tongue  with  even  a  moderate  scent,  and  still 
less,  of  course,  with  a  good  one.  With  a  good  one,  how- 
ever, they  go  at  a  tremendous  rate.  It  would  do  your 
heart  good  to  see  Villiers,  Peyton,  and  Harrison  ride  a 
sharp  burst.  They  are  beautiful  horsemen  and  not  to  be 
beaten  by  any  man  in  this  country,  or,  I  believe,  in  any 
other. 

"  I  need  not  tell  you  anything  of  the  Duke  of  Beaufort's 
hounds,  as  you  have  so  often  hunted  with  them  from 
Oxford  ;  but  I  believe  you  never  saw  the  Duke  of  Grafton's 
pack.  You  would  be  much  pleased  with  Rose,  their 
huntsman,  better  known  as  '  Tom  Rose.'  He  is  the  very 
pattern-card  of  a  huntsman,  in  all  respects ;  has  a  most 
intelligent  countenance,  the  voice  of  a  Stentor,  speaking 
excellent  dog  language,  and  is  a  good  horseman.  The 
hounds  are  not  so  neat  as  Mostyn's,  but  have  more 
power  ;  and  they  appear  to  be  higher  in  flesh,  which  Rose 
says  is  necessary  in  his  very  strong  country,  wherein  the 
woods  are  large  and  rough.  The  Fitzroys  are  considered 
good  sportsmen,  but  there  is  a  gloom  thrown  over  their 
appearance  in  the  field  by  the  colour  of  their  coats — a  dark 
green,  which  looks  very  sombre  by  the  side  of  a  bright 
scarlet,  which  is  that  of  the  Mostynites.  The  latter  have 
the  letter  M  on  their  button,  which  lately  gave  rise  to  a  good 
joke.  One  of  them  appearing  in  Leicestershire  in  this 
costume,  with  a  martingal  on  his  horse,  was  asked  by  one 
of  the  elite,  '  whether  the  letter  J/ implied  martingal  ? '  If 
3'ou  are  not  smothered  in  an  Essex  ditch  (how  can  3'ou 
hunt  in  such  a  slow  country  as  that  ?)  I  would  advise  you 
to  come  here  next  season.  I  think  you  will  agree  with 
me  that  the  country  is  a  sporting  one — the  field  composed 
of  sportsmen,  and  the  whole  thing  done  well.  As  for 
Shaw,  the  huntsman,  you  will  be  delighted  with  him. 
To  use  a  common  phrase,  he  is  as  quick  as  lightning  in  all 
his  motions — a  little  too  quick,  some  of  the  knowing  ones 
say  ;  and  I  like  to  watch  his  countenance,  when  his  hounds 
are  at  a  ticklish  point.     He  has  a  peculiar  expression  of 


224        THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN 

the  eye,  which  shows  how  his  heart  and  soul  are  absorbed 
in  the  sport. 

"We  had  a  fine  run  yesterday,  from  a  cover  called 
Gravenhill,  which,  being  within  such  easy  reach  of  Oxford, 
produced  a  good  show  of  tyros,  as  you  and  I  may  now  call 
those  of  the  cap  and  gown  who  have  a  taste  for  hunting. 
The  fox  crossed  the  brook  at  starting,  and  several  of  them 
got  into  it,  as  usually  is  the  case,  for  you  know  it  is  a 
teazer.  I  followed  Peyton,  and  got  well  over  on  Achilles, 
who,  you  know,  is  capital  at  water.  I  stuck  to  him 
throughout  the  whole  run,  and  towards  the  end  of  it 
the  following  epigrammatic  sentences  were  pleasantly  ex- 
changed between  us  : — '  More  willow-trees,  Sir  Henry,' 
said  I ;  ' another  brook,  I  suppose  ? '  'Go  along,'  replied 
this  fine  horseman,  'and  don't  stop  to  look  at  it.'  We 
both  got  well  over,  and  had  the  best  of  it  to  the  end  of 
a  fine  run,  and  over  a  fine  country.  But,  talking  of 
brooks,  there  is  a  proper  teazer  in  the  Banbury  country, — 
no  less  than  the  Charwell,  which,  as  you  know,  is  navigal3le 
far  above  Oxford.  It  gets  less  and  less  as  you  approach 
Northamptonshire,  and  is  jumpable  in  places  in  the 
Chipping  Warden  country.  I  tried  it  the  other  day,  on 
the  General,  but,  although  he  landed  me,  he  fell  back, 
and  had  a  narrow  escape  from  drowning.  '  The  Charwell 
was  7iever  leaped,'  said  Griff  Lloyd  to  me.  '  Pardon  me,' 
said  I,  '  it  has  been  leaped  this  day,  and  I  will  ride  at  it 
again,  if  it  comes  in  my  way,'  Let  me  know  what  you 
have  been  doing  in  your  country.  Those  Koodings  foxes 
are,  I  believe,  proverbially  stout,  and  I  am  informed  there 
is  no  better  sportsman  than  Mr.  Charles  Newman,  the 
master  of  the  hounds  with  which  you  hunt.  One  day 
or  another  I  hope  I  may  see  him. 

"I  have  given  up  Melton  for  this  year — indeed,  until 
finances  increase.  llacing,  also,  I  have  promised  my 
uncle  to  think  no  more  about — for  the  present  at  least ; 
so  the  hunters,  the  gun,  and  the  fishing  -  rod,  must 
furnish  the  out-a-door  amusement  ;  the  cook,  the  butler, 
and  the  young  ladies,  with  a  peep,  now  and  then,  into 
the  classics  (for  I  will  not  give  them  up),  the  pleasures 
within  the  walls,  secondary,  I  admit,  to  the  others ;  for — 

No  sport  to  the  chase  cau  compare, 

So  manly  the  pleasure  it  yields  ; 
How  sweet,  how  refreshing  that  air 

Inhaled  in  the  woods  and  the  fields  ! 


THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN        225 

As  we  rush  in  pursuit,  new  scenes  still  appear, — 

New  landscapes  encounter  the  eye  ; 
Not  Handel's  sweet  music  more  pleases  the  ear, 

Than  that  of  the  hounds  in  full  cry. 

New  strength  from  the  chase  we  derive  ; 

Its  exercise  sweetens  the  blood  ; 
How  happy  those  mortals  must  live, 

When  sport  yields  both  physic  and  food  ! 
So  new  and  so  vai-ied  its  charms  they  ne'er  cloy, 

Like  those  of  the  bottle  and  face  ; 
The  oftener— the  harder — the  more  we  enjoy, 

The  more  we're  in  love  with  the  chase. 

"  Having  become  poetical,  it  is  time  to  conclude ;  so 
subscribe  myself, — Dear  Hargave,  truly  yours, 

"Frank  Raby. 

"  P.S. — My  uncle  has  been  very  ill ;  everybody  says  he 
is  breaking  fast.  I  hope  not  ;  for  he  is  too  good  a  fellow 
to  drop  short  before  his  time  ;  and  although  there  is  no 
doubt  of  my  being  a  great  gainer  by  his  death,  it  is  an 
event  that,  so  far  from  desiring,  I  would  do  all  in  my 
power  to  avert." 

There  was  an  extraordinary  character  at  this  time 
hunting  with  Sir  Thomas  Mostyn's  hounds,  and  who 
afterwards  made  himself  so  signal  by  his  pedestrian  feats, 
as  to  be  known  by  name  and  character  to  all  the  nations 
in  the  civilized  world.  I  allude  to  Captain  Barclay, 
of  ITry,  in  Aberdeenshire,  who,  a  few  years  subsequent 
to  the  period  to  which  I  am  alluding,  performed  the 
Herculean  task  of  walking  1000  miles  in  1000  hours, 
over  Newmarket  race-course,  for  a  bet  of  several  thousand 
pounds.  The  Captain  was  likewise,  at  this  period,  a  great 
patron  of  the  boxing  ring  ;  and  our  hero  having  somewhat 
of  a  penchant  for  the  manly  science  of  self-defence,  their 
acquaintance  grew  into  intimacy,  which  continued  through 
life.  He  was  also  considered  a  good  and  scientific  sports- 
man, as  well  as  an  excellent  judge  of  a  hunter  ;  and  on 
the  subject  of  the  latter,  offered  his  friend  Raby  the 
following  useful  advice,  enforcing  it  with  the  result  of 
the  performance  of  his  own  stud  : — 

"  Purchase  your  hunters,"  said  the  Captain,  "  with 
more  strength  than  is  merely  required  to  carry  your 
weight.     /  get  into  the   saddle  full  fourteen  stone,  not- 

15 


226        THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN 

withstanding  which,  I  hunted  eighty-three  times  during 
the  last  season,  although  the  amount  of  my  stud  did  not 
exceed  four ;  and  I  was  only  enabled  to  do  this  by  the 
superior  strength  of  my  horses.  Never  purchase  horses," 
added  he,  "  that  are  not,  at  least,  a  stone  above  your 
weight." 

The  Captain  and  our  hero  being  domiciled  in  the  same 
town,  it  is  only  natural  to  suppose  they  occasionally  met 
in  the  evening,  as  well  as  by  the  cover  side.  "  Is  it  true, 
Captain  Barclay,"  said  the  latter  to  him,  as  they  sat  one 
evening  over  their  claret,  "  that  you  drove  the  mail  coach 
from  London  to  Aberdeen,  a  distance  of  nearly  400  miles, 
without  any  relief  ? " 

"  Quite  true,"  he  replied  ;  "  and  I  offered  to  drive  it 
back  again  for  the  same  wager." 

"  Then  your  journey  to  London  to  see  a  fight !  "  resumed 
his  companion. 

"  Oh  !  "  answered  this  modern  Hercules,  "  I  considered 
that  nothing  beyond  the  fact  of  my  being  exposed  to  bad 
weather  for  so  long  a  time,  having  stolen  a  march  from 
my  regiment,  saying  I  was  only  going  to  take  a  walk,  and 
absolutely  starting  without  a  great-coat.  I  mounted  the 
box  of  the  mail  at  Chester  (my  regiment  was  quartered 
at  Wrexham,  eleven  miles  distant  from  that  city)  ;  saw 
the  fight  at  Wormwood  Scrubs,  on  the  other  side  of 
London,  the  next  day  but  one  ;  returned  on  the  box  of 
the  mail  to  Shrewsbury,  and,  walking  thence  to  Wrexham, 
appeared  in  the  messroom  on  the  fifth  evening.  My  clothes 
were  wet  and  dry  several  times  during  the  journey,  and 
you  are  aware  how  rough  the  box  of  the  mail  is,  from  the 
pace  it  travels  at,  in  comparison  with  that  of  the  stage- 
coaches." ^ 

"And  is  it  possible,"  continued  Frank  Raby,  "that  a 
man  of  your  athletic  make  can  be  a  fast  runner  ? " 

"I  never  ran  more  than  one  match,"  replied  Captain 
Barclay,  ^^  my  forte  being  walking  ;  but  in  a  match  against 
John  Ward,  which  I  won  with  2  to  1  against  me,  I  ran 
440  yards,  or  a  quarter  of  a  mile,  in  fifty-six  seconds." 

"  That  you  are  a  patron  of  the  boxing  ring,"  resumed 
our  young  sportsman,  "  all  the  world  knows  ;  I  am  an 
admirer  of  it  myself,  but,  partly  to  meet  the  wishes  of  my 
father,  and  more  particularly  so  those  of  an  uncle  from 

1  The  boxes  of  all  public  coaches  were  not  at  this  period  on 
springs,  as  they  now  are. 


THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN        227 

whom  I  have  no  trifling  expectations,  I  do  not  publicly 
avow  myself  as  such/"' 

"  My  dear  fellow,"  said  the  Captain,  "  you  will  excuse 
my  saying,  that  both  your  father  and  your  uncle  take  a 
wrong  view  of  the  practice  and  effects  of  what  is  called 
prize-fighting,  very  probably  confounding  it  with  the 
fights  of  the  gladiators  in  ancient  times — and  upon  a  lower 
scale  it  certainly  does  admit  of  a  slight  comparison — in 
which  men  were  either  in  part  deprived  of  resistance,  or 
opposed  to  very  unequal  force.  No  man  now  enters  the 
ring  but  upon  perfectly  equal  terms,  or  on  as  nearly  such 
as  circumstances  will  allow  ;  and  the  display  of  manly 
intrepidity,  firmness,  gallantry,  activity,  strength,  and 
presence  of  mind,  which  these  contests  call  forth,  is  an 
honour  to  the  English  nation,  and  such  as  no  man  need 
be  ashamed  of  viewing  with  interest,  pride,  and  delight  ; 
and  we  may  safely  predict  that,  if  the  magistrates,  or 
Government,  through  a  mistaken  notion  of  preserving  the 
public  peace,  succeed  in  suppressing  them,  there  will  be 
an  end  of  that  sense  of  honour,  and  spirit,  and  gallantry, 
which  distinguish  the  common  people  of  this  country 
from  that  of  all  others  ;  and  which  is  not  only  the  best 
guardian  of  their  morals,  but,  perhaps,  the  only  security 
now  left  either  for  our  civil  liberty  or  political  independence. 
If  Englishmen  are  restrained  from  fighting  occasionally 
for  prizes  and  honorary  distinctions,  they  will  soon  cease 
to  fight  at  all,  and  decide  their  private  quarrels  with 
daggers  or  knives,  instead  of  fists,  in  which  case  the  lower 
orders  will  become  a  base  rabble  of  cowards  and  assassins, 
ready  at  any  time  to  sacrifice  the  higher  to  the  avarice  or 
ambition  of  a  foreign  foe.  No  people  under  the  sun  are 
less  cruel  than  the  English  now  are,  or  so  little  prone  to 
shed  blood  ;  and,  even  admitting  there  is  some  cruelty  in 
prize-fighting,  experience  has  shown  that  cruel  sports  do 
not  create  a  cruel  people  ;  and,  strange  to  say,  the  love  of 
gladiators  among  the  Romans  increased  as  the  people 
began  to  be  civilized,  and  as  their  manners,  in  other 
respects,  became  more  refined.  Even  the  excellent  and 
humane  Titus  encouraged  all  such  exhibitions  of  science 
and  manly  courage  ;  and  we  find  Pliny,  in  his  panegyric 
on  the  still  more  excellent  Trajan,  stating  his  belief,  that 
the  public  shows,  exhibited  at  that  emperor's  expense,  had 
no  tendency  to  weaken  or  debauch  the  soul ;  on  the 
contrary,  that  they  excited  the  courage  of  the  spectators ; 


228        THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN 

making  them  proud,  rather  than  afraid  of  honourable 
scars,  whilst  they  beheld  slaves  thirsting  after  praise, 
inflamed  with  the  love  of  victory.  What  did  Mr. 
Wyndham  say  in  reference  to  it,  the  other  day,  in  the 
House  of  Commons  ? — and  a  more  humane  man  than 
himself  does  not  at  this  time  exist.  '  It  is  thought,'  said 
he,  'that  the  prevention  of  conflicts  between  inferior 
animals  might  prove  prejudicial  to  the  courage  of  the 
people.  In  defence  of  this  hypothesis,  Britons  have  ever 
been  distinguished  for  what  is  called  bottom,  or  pluck. 
But  conflicts  between  inferior  animals,  and  those  between 
rational  beings,  such  as  men,  bear  no  comparison,  inasmuch 
as,  in  the  one  case,  the  will  of  the  combatant  is  not 
consulted,  and  he  may  consequently  be  compelled  to  fight, 
not  only  against  his  inclination,  but  likewise  on  unequal 
terms.'  Again,  the  picture  he  presented  to  the  champion 
of  the  British  boxing  ring,  of  the  victim  bleeding  from 
the  assassin's  knife,  and  the  accompanying  inscription, 
written  with  his  own  hand,  show  his  opinion  in  un- 
equivocal terms.  However,  let  me  refer  your  father  and 
uncle  to  a  recent  charge  to  the  grand  jury  by  one  of  our 
most  distinguished  judges,  in  my  opinion  highly  charac- 
teristic of  the  national  character,  and  plainly  intimating 
that,  if  we  do  not  encourage  boxing,  we  must  be  prepared 
for  the  viler  practices  of  the  stiletto,  or  the  knife.  '  I 
cannot,'  said  his  lordship,  in  allusion  to  a  charge  in  the 
calendar  for  cutting  and  maiming,  '  but  express  my  regret 
that  a  knife  should  have  been  found  in  the  hands  of  an 
Englishman,  as  an  instrument  of  off'ensive  quarrel.  It  was 
formerly  the  practice  in  this  country,  when  men  fell  out, 
to  fight  as  long  as  they  could,  and  possibly  to  do  each 
other  as  much  injury  as  could  be  inflicted  by  the  personal 
strength  of  the  combatants  ;  but  they  fought  in  an  open, 
fair,  and  honourable  manner  ;  they  took  no  mean  advan- 
tages ;  they  had  no  recourse  to  deadly  instruments  to 
procure  superiority,  or  to  gratify  revenge.  I  will  take 
care,  so  long  as  common  assaults  are  punishable  by  the 
law,  to  visit,  with  the  utmost  severity  of  that  law,  those 
who  dare  to  desert  that  mode  of  defence  which  nature  has 
given,  and  which  time  has  almost  sanctified  in  their  own 
country,  and  who  have  chosen  to  adopt  that  foreign 
practice  of  employing  instruments  of  this  description 
against  an  opponent.  Gentlemen,  the  practice  of  boxing 
has  often  been  a  subject  of  discussion  in  this  country ;  I 


THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN        229 

must  say,  that  it  seems  to  me  a  practice  that  may  be  very 
advantageously  encouraged  to  a  limited  extent.  It  is,  in 
some  sort,  a  law  of  peace,  for  it  discourages  the  use  of 
unfair  means  of  attack  ;  it  prevents  malicious  retaliation  ; 
it  only  enables  men  to  employ,  fairly,  advantages  they 
may  naturally  possess,  and  from  the  al)use  of  which  they 
are  restrained  by  the  point  of  honour  ;  and  while  it 
encourages  a  proper  English  spirit,  it  prevents  courage 
from  degenerating  into  brutality,  and  secures  men  from 
the  treachery  and  malignity  of  those  whom  they  have 
offended.'  This  language,"  said  the  Captain,  "is  cor- 
roborated by  the  well-known  fact  that,  in  Lancashire, 
where  fair  boxing  is  very  little  resorted  to  in  quarrels, 
there  are  forty  cases  of  manslaughter  for  one  that  takes 
place  in  any  other  county  in  England.  Then,  as  to  the 
charge  of  cruelty  on  the  part  of  the  promoters  of  boxing, 
it  cannot  be  sustained  in  the  face  of  evidence  to  the 
contrary.  Where  is  there  a  more  humane  man  than 
Jackson,  the  present  captain  of  the  ring ;  or  Thomas 
Belcher,  the  champion  of  all  England  ?  "Within  four 
miles  of  where  we  are  now  sitting,  are  two  promoters  of 
the  ring — the  worthy  master  of  the  hounds,  and  Mr. 
Henson — than  whom  the  world  cannot  produce  two 
kinder-hearted  men.  Who  will  accuse  me  of  cruelty 
towards  man  or  beast  ? "  added  the  Captain  emphati- 
cally ;  "  such  was  never  my  disposition ;  and  I  can 
honestly  assert  that,  so  far  from  having  witnessed  in  the 
ring  anything  having  a  tendency  to  make  me  so,  I  have 
witnessed  the  display  of  feeling  and  conduct  productive 
of  the  most  opposite  effects.  Only  let  public  pugilistic 
contests  go  on  as  they  are  now  conducted — with  honour 
and  credit  to  the  parties  concerned — and,  my  word  for  it, 
they  will  be  the  source  of  infinitely  more  good  than  harm 
to  society." 

"  The  sentiments  you  have  given  utterance  to,"  observed 
Raby,  "are  precisely  those  which  I  myself  entertain,  and 
which  I  have  oftentimes  availed  myself  of  when  arguing 
the  subject  with  my  uncle.  I  remember  reading  to  him  a 
passage  from  the  speech  of  an  eminent  counsel,  who  was 
defending  five  persons,  indicted  for  having  riotously 
assembled  for  the  purpose  of  witnessing  a  prize-fight,  and 
resisted  the  authority  of  an  officer  employed  by  the 
magistrates  to  disperse  them.  '  As  to  the  practice  of 
boxing,  a  great  deal  has  been  said  about  it  of  late,  and  the 


230        THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN 

counsel  for  the  prosecution  has  endeavoured  to  work  upon 
the  feelings  of  the  jury  bv  stating  that  such  encounters 
sometimes  terminate  fatally.  The  common  law  of  England 
had,  however,  made  wrestling,  cudgel-playing,  and  even 
bull-baiting,  legal  :  people  assembled  to  witness  or  engage 
in  those  national  pastimes  —  those  manly  exercises  of 
Englishmen — did  not  as  much  as  come  within  the  defini- 
tion of  a  riotous  or  unlawful  assembly,  yet  wrestling 
and  bull-baiting  often  terminated  fatally.  Such  sports, 
however,  preserved  the  health,  the  vigour,  and  the 
characteristic  courage  of  the  English  people,  and  our 
brave  ancestors  had,  therefore,  looked  upon  them  with 
indulgence.  He  asked  the  jury  to  look  at  the  practice  of 
boxing,  not  through  the  medium  of  a  mawkish  senti- 
mentality, but  with  the  feelings  of  sensible  and  manly 
Englishmen,  who  partook  of  the  generous  courage  which 
had  raised  this  country  above  all  the  other  nations  on  the 
earth.  He  had  heard  it  observed,  by  one  of  the  greatest 
advocates  in  Westminster  Hall,  that  the  same  God  who 
made  man  rational  also  made  him  resentful.  It  was, 
indeed,  characteristic  of  Englishmen  to  be  resentful  of 
insult,  but  not  vindictive.  They  preferred  returning  an 
insult  or  a  blow  at  the  instant,  to  cherishing  a  spiteful 
recollection  for  an  opportunity  of  dark  and  malignant 
revenge.  They  were  prone  to  the  manly  habit  of  fighting 
out  their  quarrels  on  the  spot,  and  retaining  no  ill-will 
afterwards.  They  did  not,  like  the  people  of  Italy, 
avenge  their  exasperated  feelings  by  the  cowardly  use  of 
the  stiletto  ;  nor,  like  the  people  of  Portugal  or  Spain, 
by  the  knife  ;  neither  did  they  gouge  and  maim  their 
antagonists  with  the  savage  barbarism  of  North  America. 
The  practice  of  boxing  in  a  ring  tanght  them  the 
observance  of  fair  play.  To  that  the  infrequency  of 
assassination  in  England  was  to  be  attributed.  He  did 
not  mean  to  say  that  fighting  of  any  description  was  not 
an  evil,  but  he  confidently  asserted  that  it  could  not  be 
put  down  without  a  greater  evil  arising  out  of  its 
suppression.  Boxing  -  matches  could  not  be  abolished 
without  encouraging  assassination  ;  and  to  such  a  lament- 
able change  in  the  English  character  he  was  sure  the 
jury  would  not  allow  themselves  to  be  made  instru- 
mental.'"' 

"  May  I  ask  what  was  the  result  of  the  trial  ?"  said  the 
Captain. 


THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN        231 

"Why,"  replied  our  hero,  "the  chairman  told  the 
jury  that  the  learned  counsel  had  given  a  wrong  inter- 
pretation of  the  law,  and,  commenting  upon  the  evidence, 
considered  it  conclusive  against  the  defendants." 

"  Then,  of  course,  they  were  found  guilty,"  observed 
the  Captain. 

"  Certainly  not,"  answered  Raby  ;  "  they  were  not  only 
acquitted  by  the  verdict  of  the  jury  that  tried  them  on 
the  first  indictment,  but  upon  two  other  indictments 
arising  out  of  the  same  transaction  it  was  thought  ex- 
pedient not  to  offer  any  evidence  against  them,  and 
verdicts  of  acquittal  passed." 

"And  what  were  the  principal  objections  to  pugilistic 
exhibitions  urged  by  your  father  and  uncle  ? "  inquired 
the  Captain. 

"I  do  not,  as  this  moment,  recollect  what  my  father 
said  on  the  subject,"  replied  Raby  ;  "  but  my  uncle  drew 
on  antiquity  for  the  arguments  he  made  use  of  against 
any  such  public  displays,  especially  in  cases  wherein 
money  is  the  proffered  reward.  In  the  first  place,  he 
contended,  that  a  cold  indifterence  to  the  siglit  of  blood 
and  wounds  was  no  characteristic  of  the  true  hero  ;  and, 
looking  back  to  antiquity,  pronounced  the  Athlette,  on 
the  authority  of  Euripides,  to  have  been  the  worst  soldiers 
in  Greece — so  much  so,  indeed,  as  to  induce  Solon  to 
persuade  the  Athenians  to  allot  the  rewards  bestowed 
upon  them  to  the  maintenance  of  poor  orphans,  rather 
than  to  them.  Neither  did  gladiatorial  exhibitions 
continue  in  the  Roman  state  after  it  ceased  to  be  pagan. 
Secondh',  although  it  might  have  been  good  policy  in  the 
Romans  to  impress  their  soldiers  with  a  just  contempt  of 
the  power  of  elephants,  by  having  a  considerable  number 
of  those  animals  driven  through  the  circus  at  Rome  by  a 
few  slaves,  armed  with  blunted  javelins  ;  and  although, 
in  Homer's  time,  bodily  strength  met  with  the  greatest 
honours,  being  necessary  to  the  subsistence  of  little 
governments — still,  as  our  soldiers  have  no  elephants  to 
contend  with,  and  as,  since  the  invention  of  gunpowder, 
physical  strength  and  personal  exertion,  so  much  depended 
upon  by  the  ancients,  are  now  not  essential,  such  ex- 
hibitions are  useless.  Men  are  more  upon  an  equality  in 
fighting  than  they  were  in  the  early  ages  of  the  world. 
He  admitted,  however,  that  the  spirit-stirring  descrip- 
tions of  single  combats  with  the  fist  or  the  cestus — those 


232        THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN 

between  Pollux  and  Amycus,  so  admirably  told  by 
Theocritus  in  his  twenty-second  Idyllium,  and  between 
Dares  and  Entellus,  in  the  fifth  ^neid  of  Virgil, 
especially — had  induced  him  to  be  present  at  a  sparring- 
match  between  two  celebrated  boxers  of  his  younger  days. 
'  The  attitude  of  these  men,'  said  he,  '  excited  my  highest 
admiration  ;  that  of  one  of  them,  in  particular,  reminding 
me  of  Milton's  descripton  of  the  angel,  whose 

" starry  helm  unbuckled,  show'd  him  prime 

In  manhood."! 

The  firm  and  erect  posture  of  the  body,  the  head  drawn  a 
little  back,  the  expanded  chest,  and  the  judicious  position 
of  the  brawny  arms,  certainly  display  the  human  form  to 
the  greatest  possible  advantage  ;  and,  in  this  particular 
instance,  I  was  favoured  by  a  private  display,  by  one  of 
the  performers,  of  the  grand  and  powerful  expression  of 
his  muscles,  together  with  the  agility  and  suppleness  of 
his  movements.  Having  been  instructed  for  the  occasion, 
he  successively  placed  himself  in  the  attitudes  of  the 
fighting  and  dying  gladiators,  of  the  Hercules  Farnese, 
and  other  antique  statues,  as  well  as  in  that  of  the  Atlas  of 
Michael  Angelo  ;  finishing  by  exhibitions  of  strength  and 
activity  beyond  what  I  considered  to  exist  in  the  human 
form.  This  man  became  the  champion  of  England  ;  and, 
like  the  invincible  Pancratiast  of  ancient  Greece,  finally 
retired  to  his  native  place,  not  only  with  honours  well 
deserved  by  his  bravery  and  good  conduct  in  the  ring, 
but  with  a  competency  sufficient  to  render  his  situation 
agreeable  to  him.  Unwilling  to  be  idle,  however,  he 
became  a  teacher  of  gymnastic  exercises,  and  was,  in  his 
o^^-n  person,  the  best  example  of  their  beneficial  effects  in 
improving  the  health  and  increasing  the  strength  and 
beauty  of  the  human  figure.' " 

1  What  can  be  finer,  or  more  true  to  the  life,  than  Virgil's 
description,  in  the  fifth  ^neid,  of  Entellus  stripping  in  the 
ring  ?— 

"  Hie  fatus,  duplicem  ex  humeris  refecit  amiclum  ; 
Et  magnos  membrorum  artus  magna  ossa  lacertosque 
Exuit ;  atque  ingens  media  consistit  arena." 

The  same  may  be  said  of  the  set-to  between  Hector  and  Ajax,  in 
the  fifth  Iliad  of  Homer,  and  of  the  wrestling-match  in  the  twenty- 
thurd. 


THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN        233 

"  "Well,"  observed  the  Captain,  "  I  think  your  uncle 
said  nearly  as  much  in  favour  of  boxing  or  '  the  science  of 
self-defence,'  as  we  now  call  it,  as  he  advanced  in  its  dis- 
praise ;  and  let  me  ask  you  whether  you  availed  yourself 
of  the  liberty  given  you  to  reply  ? " 

"  Of  course  I  did,"  answered  our  hero ;  "  and  I  think 
I  can  call  to  mind  most  of  the  arguments  I  made  use  of. 
Meeting  him  on  his  own  ground,  I  reminded  him  of  some 
striking  facts  in  the  histories  of  the  times  to  which  he 
alluded,  favourable  to  the  pursuit  in  question.  In  the 
first  place,  I  echoed  your  words,  namely,  that  the  love  of 
gladiatorial  exhibitions,  among  the  Romans,  increased  as 
they  began  to  be  civilized,  and  as  their  manners  in  other 
respects  became  more  refined  ;  although  I  was  obliged  to 
admit  that  it  ceased  when  they  became  Christians  ;  and 
we  are  very  well  assured  that,  amongst  the  ancient 
Greeks,  in  the  highest  state  of  their  refinement,  education 
was  not  considered  complete  in  which  the  powers  of  the 
body,  as  well  as  those  of  the  mind,  were  not  regarded  and 
cultivated  to  the  utmost.  The  statue  of  Hercules,  as  well 
as  that  of  Mercury,  adorned  the  gymnasia  of  Athens, 
whilst  that  city  was  celebrated  for  the  cultivation  of  every 
liberal  accomplishment ;  and  those  of  the  higher  orders  in 
society  seldom  passed  a  day  without  practising  bodily 
exercises  in  their  gymnasia,  of  which  boxing,  we  may 
be  assured,  was  one.  Even  in  the  time  of  Lycurgus, 
sumptuary  laws,  and  the  proscription  of  everything  that 
had  a  tendency  to  soften  the  minds  and  enervate  the 
bodies  of  the  Spartans,  were  enforced  ;  and,  centuries 
after  that  period,  it  was  owing  to  Alexander  the  Great 
sending  30,000  children,  of  the  best  families,  to  be 
educated  in  Macedonian  exercises,  that  he  secured  the 
possession  of  the  Persian  empire,  which  he  had  acquired 
solely  by  the  effeminacy  of  the  Persian  soldiery.  ^  Amongst 
the  characters  of  fiction,  equal  honours  have  been  given 
to  those  who  distinguished  themselves  in  pugilistic  en- 
counters ;  and  the  circumstance  of  the  dandy.  Dares, 
thrashing  the  huge  Entellus,  shows  that  the  use  of  the 
fists  was  by  no  means  beneath  the  practice  of  a  gentleman. 

1  Amongst  the  principal  games  celebrated  in  honour  of  Patroclus, 
as  enumerated  in  Homer's  Iliad,  boxing  is  mentioned  ;  and  the 
duel  of  Ulysses  with  the  beggar  Irus  is  one  of  the  most  diverting 
incidents  in  the  Odyssey.  The  King  of  Ithaca  seems  to  have  been 
well  calculated  for  the  ring. 


234       THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN 

Then  care  has  been  taken  to  prove  that  a  bullying  manner 
rarely,  if  ever,  accompanies  true  courage  and  even 
consummate  skill.  For  example  :  when  Hector,  in  the 
seventh  book  of  the  Iliad,  is  made  to  challenge  to  single 
combat  any  of  the  Greek  leaders,  Ajax  remains  silent, 
through  modest  reserve,  till  Nestor's  speech  rouses  him  to 
an  offer  of  meeting  the  defiance.  Again,  when  the  lot 
falls  upon  him  to  be  the  champion  on  the  occasion,  the 
same  reserve  marks  his  conduct.  He  merely  expresses  a 
soldier's  confidence  in  the  result,  and  desires  the  Greeks 
to  pray  to  Jupiter  for  his  success.  Then,  as  I  understand 
is  invariably  the  case  with  British  pugilists.  Homer  takes 
care  to  show  that  Ajax  bore  no  personal  ill-will  towards 
Hector  when  he  went  forth  to  fight  him  ;  and  it  is  on 
this  ground  that  Cicero,  in  his  Tusculon  questions,  offers 
an  apology  for  the  gladiatorial  exhibitions  of  his  country.^ 
I  finished  my  exordium,"  continued  our  hero,  "  on  British 
boxing,  with  a  short  extract  from  Jackson's  '  Stranger  in 
America,'  which  I  had  written  in  my  memorandum  book 
for  the  express  purpose  : — 

" '  Gouging,  in  the  State  of  Georgia,'  says  the  author, 
'  is  thus  practised  : — the  best  man  throws  his  antagonist 
on  the  ground,  and  gets  up  with  an  eye  in  his  hand,  which 
he  has  turned  out  of  the  socket  with  the  thumb-stroke  ; — 
"  The  first  eye  for  the  honour  of  the  State  ! !  !  "  They  use 
their  teeth,  sharpened  with  a  file,  and  bite  off  ears  and 
noses.  A  scuffie  took  place  among  some  sailors  ;  one  of 
them,  a  practised  gouger,  knocked  out  the  candle,  gouged 
out  three  eyes,  bit  off  one  ear,  tore  a  few  cheeks,  and  made 
good  his  retreat ! '  " 

"And  what  said  your  uncle  to  all  this?"  asked  the 
Captain. 

"  Why,  he  gave  a  shudder,  and  expressed  a  wish  to  drop 
the  subject  for  the  present." 

"  Had  I  been  present  at  this  conversation,"  resumed  the 
Captain,  "  I  would  have  told  your  uncle  that,  although 
the  invention  of  gunpowder  has  put  men  more  on  an 

1  Why  Homer  has  chosen  to  represent  Ajax  as  a  loser  in  all  the 
games  in  which  he  is  engaged  at  the  funeral  of  Patroclus,  is  not 
easily  explained  ;  especially  as  they  are  of  a  nature  in  which  his 
bodily  strength  and  vigour  would  have  fair  scope  for  exertion. 
We  may  suppose,  however,  that,  having  fixed  his  reputation  by 
making  him  the  resource  of  his  countrymen  on  all  important 
occasions,  it  is  of  little  consequence  that  others  excel  him  in 
sportive  conflicts. 


THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN        235 

equality  in  battle,  still,  as  has  been  proved  in  our 
numerous  and  generally  victorious  contests  with  the 
enemy,  physical  power  in  our  soldiers  has  greatly  served 
our  cause.  It  has  been  ascertained  by  the  means  of  an 
instrument  called  the  dynamometer  (or  measure  of 
strength),  that  the  English  are  the  strongest  of  all 
European  nations,  and,  by  a  fourth  part,  stronger  than 
savages  in  a  state  of  nature.  Thus  it  appears  that  the 
improvement  of  social  order  does  not  impair  the  physical 
powers  of  man,  as  some  persons  have  imagined  ;  but 
experience  has  shown  that  the  strength  and  activity  of 
the  human  frame,  arising  from  the  natural  muscular 
conformation  of  its  parts,  can  be  nearly  trebled  by  proper 
food  and  exercise,  or  what  we  call  training.  It  has  been 
proved  that,  under  such  circumstances,  man  is  infinitely 
superior  in  strength  to  the  horse,  relatively  to  the  size  of 
the  latter,  which  is  to  that  of  a  man  as  six  or  seven  to 
one  ;  and  he  is  cajDable  of  being  trained  to  beat  him  at 
a  continuance  of  labour.  I,  myself,  walked  110  miles 
in  nineteen  hours  and  twenty-seven  minutes,  and  a  man 
named  Granville  went  142  miles  in  twenty-nine  hours. 
Taking  the  average  of  horses,  not  one  in  a  thousand  would 
have  performed  either  of  these  tasks. ^  The  mechanical 
construction  of  man,  however,  is  admirably  adapted  to 
his  destination  under  any  circumstances  in  which  he  may 
be  placed  ;  but  the  degree  of  strength  which  is  attainable 
by  exercise,  and  lost  by  effeminacy,  is,  unfortunately,  not 
generally  considered,  or  it  would  cause  many  to  withdraw 
themselves  from  the  slavery  of  luxury,  and  induce  them 
to  enlist  under  the  banners  of  temperance  and  exercise,  the 
true  sources  of  enjoyment,  and  the  only  efficient  means 
of  utility.  And  this  state  of  additional  strength  in  man, 
together  with  health  which  none  but  those  who  have 
experienced  it  can  appreciate,  is  found  by  those  who  are 
trained  for  the  ring  to  be  attained  by  plain  but  sub- 
stantial food,  with  good  malt  liquor,  or  water,  and  not 
through  the  means  of  soups,  jellies,  or  rich  sauces,  and 

1  An  ingenious  Frenchman  ascertained  the  strength  of  the  human 
frame,  by  placing  on  every  part  of  a  man's  body,  standing  upright, 
a  number  of  weights,  in  sucla  a  manner  that  each  part  supported 
as  much  as  it  could  bear,  relatively  to  the  rest ;  and  it  was  found 
by  this  contrivance  that  a  man  could  stand  under  2000  pounds. 
Supposing,  then,  the  bulk  of  the  body  of  a  horse  to  be  as  I  have 
stated,  he  ought  to  bear  a  weight  of  12,000  or  14,000  pounds, 
which  no  horse  could  bear. 


236       THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN 

still  less  of  spirituous  liquors,  or  large  quantities  of  wine, 
which  are  all  found  detrimental  both  to  health  and 
strength, 

"  Then  look  at  our  own  case.  Within  the  last  ten  days, 
you  and  I  have  hunted  nine  times,  the  distances  to  and 
from  the  places  of  meeting  averaging  twenty  miles.  Now, 
adding  thereunto  the  several  fine  runs  we  have  seen, 
during  the  late  succession  of  good  sport,  we  may  safely 
reckon  upon  having  ridden  fifty  miles  per  day,  putting 
the  extra  exertion  of  riding  over  the  country  out  of  the 
question.  Have  either  of  us,  let  me  ask,  felt  the  slightest 
degree  of  fatigue  from  the  doings  of  these  ten  days  ?  On 
the  contrary,  have  we  not  felt  invigorated,  and,  in  every 
respect,  in  better  health  1  Have  we  not  enjoyed  our  meals, 
and  our  wine,  and  our  beds,  rising  in  the  morning  with  a 
freshness  not  perceptible  at  other  periods  of  the  year, 
in  the  summer  months  especially,  when  our  exertions 
necessarily  abate  ?  Eely  upon  it,  then,  my  young  friend," 
added  the  Captain,  with  no  slight  emphasis,  "manly 
exercises  of  all  sorts  should  be  encouraged  in  the  youth 
of  this  country ;  and  although  the  practice  of  j^trize- 
fighting  cannot  altogether  be  justified  on  moral  grounds — 
inasmuch  as  the  training  two  persons  for  the  express 
purpose  of  inflicting  serious  injury  to  each  other,  in  cold 
blood,  at  the  hazard  of  sacrificing  their  lives,  while  thou- 
sands of  their  fellow-men  are  looking  on,  for  their  amuse- 
ment, is  undoubtedly  opposed  to  Christian  feeling  ;  still, 
up  to  the  present  time,  considerably  more  good  than  evil 
has  arisen  from  it,  in  upholding  the  national  character  for 
courage  and  fair  play,  and  enabling  Englishmen  to  boast, 
not  merely  of  their  courage  and  fair  play  in  their  quarrels, 
but  that  England  is  the  only  country  under  the  sun,  in  which 
the  knife  or  the  dagger  is  not  used  to  avenge  insults  or  in- 
juries. There  are,  I  am  sorry  to  add,  some  signs  of  a 
departure  from  the  strictly  honourable  conduct  hitherto 
displayed  in  the  British  ring,  the  consequence  of  Jews 
becoming  prominent  characters  in  it :  should  this  become 
manifest,  it  will  lose  the  patronage  of  those  highly  re- 
spectable persons  who  now  support  it  so  liberally — many 
of  them  on  principle — and  I  have  no  hesitation  in  saying, 
that  my  support,  earnest  as  it  has  hitherto  been,  will,  in 
that  case,  be  withdrawn.  But  it  is  not  only  from  the 
practice  of  boxing  that  national  advantages  are  derived  : 
the  use  of  the  cudgel  and  back-sword,  or  single-stick — as 


THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN        237 

a  stick  with  a  basket  to  guard  the  hand  is  called — is 
equally  serviceable  in  ,its  way  ;  and  I  will  show  you  a 
man,  to-morrow,  at  the  cover  side,  who  is  one  of  the  best 
swordsmen  in  the  army  of  the  present  day,  having  derived 
his  superiority  from  the  constant  use  of  the  back-sword 
while  at  Kugby  school." 

The  season  drawing  to  a  close,  and  Frank  Eaby,  not 
considering  his  stud  strong  enough  to  make  a  finish  of  it 
at  Melton,  bent  his  steps  homewards,  and  arrived  at  the 
Abbey  about  the  first  week  in  April,  having  the  pleasure 
to  find  all  his  family  in  good  health.  Nearly  the  first 
thing  that  he  did,  was  to  send  for  Mr.  Robson,  the 
steward,  and  direct  him  as  to  making  preparations  for  his 
stud  during  the  summer  months  ;  neither  was  the  order 
a  light  one.  But  we  will  describe  the  meeting  between 
them  on  the  occasion. 

"  Good  morning  to  you,  Eobson,"  said  our  hero  ;  "  I  am 
glad  to  see  you  well.  I  want  to  arrange  about  my  hunters, 
eight  in  number,  which  I  intend  shall  remain  here  during 
the  summer." 

"Exactly  so,"  replied  the  Scotchman.  "We  have  a 
good  prospect  of  a  fine  bite  of  grass  in  the  park  by 
May-day  at  furthest,  and  the  Squire's  hunters  are  always 
turned  out  about  that  time.  There  is  plenty  of  shade  and 
water,  and  it  will  do  your  heart  good  to  see  how  the  poor 
beasts  will  gallop  about  and  enjoy  themselves  on  fine 
summer  days,  and  how  fat  they  get.  Then  there  will  be 
a  fine  herd  of  them  together,  with  the  Squire's  eight, 
and  mv  lady's  ponies,  and  all  the  hacks  ;  oh  !  how  they 
will—" 

"  Ay,  ay  !  I  know  what  you  are  going  to  say,  Robson," 
resumed  the  young  Squire  ;  "  but  I  am  not  going  to  turn 
my  horses  into  the  park,  to  knock  their  legs  to  pieces  in 
galloping,  and  stamping  to  rid  themselves  of  flies,  besides 
losing  all  their  condition,  which  is  now  quite  perfect. 
You  must  run  me  up  four  hovels  in  a  dry  and  retired 
part  of  the  park,  dividing  each  into  two,  with  four  outlets 
of  ground,  well  railed  in,  of  about  a  quarter  of  an  acre 
each.  The  doors  must  be  double  the  common  width,  with 
rollers  to  the  side-posts  ;  and  if  no  water  be  at  hand,  a 
water-cart  must  be  made  to  hold  two  days'  consump- 
tion, and  a  one-horse  cart  at  command,  to  carry  hay  and 
corn." 

"  Hay  and  corn  !  "  exclaimed  Robson  ;   "  why  surely, 


238        THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN 

sir,  5'ou  are  not  going  to  expend  hay  and  corn  on  horses 
when  they  do  no  work  !     The  expense  of  hunters  is  quite 

enough  in  the  winter  months  ;  but  surely,  sir " 

"  Leave  those  matters  to  me,"  said  Frank  Eaby  ;  "  if 
the  Squire  has  no  very  good  old  oats,  purchase  twenty 
quarters  of  the  best  for  me,  the  next  market  day,  and  let 
the  hovels  and  paddocks  be  run  up  without  delay,  as  my 
horses  will  be  ready  to  be  put  into  them  by  the  first  week 
in  May.  But  I  have  forgotten  one  thing ;  I  understand 
you  will  have  both  lucern  and  winter  tares  ready  by  that 
time  ;  and  you  must  order  a  cart-load  of  them  to  be 
brought  to  the  hunters,  whenever  my  groom  thinks  it 
projDer  to  give  them." 

"  The  lucern  and  the  tares  will  be  very  young  at  the 
time  you  specify,"  resumed  the  steward.  "  It  will  be  a 
sore  waste  to  cut  them." 

"  The  younger  the  better,"  answered  our  young  sports- 
man ;  "  there  is  no  purpose  to  which  you  can  put  them, 
that  will  pay  half  so  well  as  that  for  which  they  are 
required  by  me.  But  do  not  alarm  yourself,  Robson  ;  I 
shall  not  want  many  of  them,  having  been  informed  by 
the  best  groom  of  the  present  day  that  much  green  food 
of  any  sort  is  injurious  to  the  condition  of  hunters  ;  and 
on  their  condition  does  half  of  their  excellence  depend. 
Indeed,  the  longer  I  live,  the  more  I  am  convinced  of  the 
truth  of  Mr.  Warde's  maxim,  that  '  the  goodness  and  shape 
of  horses  go  in  at  their  mouths.' " 

The  faithful  steward  ha^dng  satisfied  himself  that 
the  sanction  of  his  master  had  been  obtained  for  this 
outlay  of  capital,  assured  "  Mr.  Francis  "  that  his  orders 
should  be  immediately  executed,  and  with  as  much 
economy  as  ^^ossible,  oloserving,  at  the  same  time,  that, 
although  he  had  never  given  the  subject  a  moment's 
consideration  before,  yet  he  was  inclined  to  be  of  his 
opinion  as  to  the  condition  of  the  horses,  which  no  doubt 
would  be  very  much  affected  by  the  sudden  change  of 
keep. 

"  Besides,"  added  he,  "your  horses,  sir,  will  he  safe  in 
the  paddocks.  Since  I  have  lived  with  the  Squire,  we 
have  had  three  good  hunters  spoiled — two  by  being  kicked 
by  others,  and  one  gored  by  an  ox.  I  have  heard  Dick 
the  huntsman  say  that  he  never  rode  but  one  hunter  that 
he  could  not  find  the  bottom  of,  in  the  course  of  the 
season,  and  that  was  a  roan  horse,  called  Marplot,  which 


THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN        239 

-was  obliged  to  be  kept  at  house  all  summer,  and  for  two 
reasons  :  first,  he  was  so  vicious  that  he  was  dangerous  to 
the  others  in  the  park ;  and  secondly,  his  body  was  so 
deep,  in  proportion  to  the  length  of  his  fore  legs,  that  he 
could  not  reach  the  ground  with  his  mouth  witliout  great 
difficulty,  and  of  course  straining  his  limbs.  You  do 
not  remember  Marplot,  Mr.  Francis,  but  you  have  often 
heard  Dick  talk  of  him.  To  be  sure  he  always  looked 
very  different  to  the  other  hunters,  especially  before 
Christmas." 

"  And  how  was  he  treated  in  the  summer  ? "  inquired 
Mr.  Francis. 

"  He  stood  in  the  stable  with  the  coach-horses,  and  Dick 
rode  him  almost  every  day,  when  exercising  the  hounds, 
in  the  park,"  was  the  answer. 

"  His  goodness  in  the  field,  and  his  superior  condition, 
are  accounted  for,"  said  our  hero,  as  he  walked  away  from 
the  steward  ;  and  on  his  road  to  the  house  he  met  Dick 
going  towards  the  kennel.  "  Where  now,  Dick  ?  "  said  he 
to  the  man  whom  he  once  thought  more  of,  perhaps,  than 
of  any  other  in  the  w^orld — compared  with  whom  Mr. 
Egerton  was  a  dunce,  and  even  Sir  John  but  second  fiddle  ; 
— whose  very  words  he  had  devoured  as  he  sat  on  his 
knee  in  the  "  hall,"  when  describing  the  run  of  yesterday, 
and  anticipating  that  of  to-morrow,  which  he  had  obtained 
permission  to  witness. 

"  To  the  kennel,  to  feed,  sir,"  replied  Dick ;  "  will  you 
not  come  and  see  'em  ? " 

"  Not  I,  indeed,  Dick,"  answered  Frank  Raby,  "  I  would 
not  give  twopence  to  see  the  best  harriers  in  the  world  ; 
in  fact,  I  hate  anything  belonging  to  harriers.  They  are 
always  bow-wowing  about  the  country,  disturbing  the 
foxes,  and  they  do  more  harm  to  farmers  than  two  packs 
of  foxhounds,  by  being  so  long  pottering  in  the  same 
place." 

"  Sorry  to  hear  you  talk  so,  Mr.  Francis,"  said  the  old 
huntsman,  evidently  chagrined  at  these  remarks,  "but  our 
hounds,  you  know,  never  hang  long  about  any  one  place. 
Indeed,  the  very  last  day  but  one,  the  Sc^uire  was  saying  he 
wished  you  had  been  with  us,  on  one  of  your  best  hunters  ; 
we  went  from  Burton  Clumps  to  Fox's  Barn,  good  eight 
miles,  as  straight  as  a  crow  ever  flew  ;  and,  out  of  nine- 
teen horsemen,  six  only  were  up  when  we  killed  the 
hare." 


240       THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN 

"Horsemen!"  said  our  hero  contemptuously, — "what 
sort  of  horsemen  ? " 

"  Why,  some  of  the  right  sort,  sir,"  replied  Dick  ;  "  Mr. 
Hammond  was  one  of  them  that  could  not  go  to  the  end, 
and  Farmer  Williams  on  the  old  grey  mare." 

"The  old  grey  mare,"  continued  Frank,  "fed  upon 
clover,  hay,  and  Swedish  turnips  in  the  winter,  and  lying 
with  the  feeding  oxen  all  the  summer." 

"  Beg  pardon,  sir,"  resumed  Dick  ;  "  it  is  true  the  old 
mare  lies  with  the  feeding  oxen  in  the  summer,  but  the 
old  gentleman  gives  her  the  best  of  everything  in  the 
winter,  and  the  Squire's  horses  do  not  eat  better  hay  or 
corn.  Then  there  was  Lord  Brock  on  one  of  his  Leicester- 
shire horses  ;  his  Lordship  had  quite  enough  of  it  at  the 
finish  ;  and,  what  was  more,  I  heard  him  tell  the  Squire 
that  he  never  saw  hunting  quite  perfect  till  that  day.  It 
certainly  was  a  beautiful  sight  to  see  how  the  hounds  did 
their  work  from  first  to  last ;  how  they  turned  with  the 
scent,  and  what  a  head  they  carried  ;  and  how  the  blood 
of  old  Tyrant  told  at  the  last,  for  every  hound  was  in  his 
place." 

Time  had  been  when  Frank  Eaby  would  have  been 
entranced  with  this  short  but  graphic  description  of  an 
eight  miles'  burst,  but  the  charm  was  now  dispelled  ;  so, 
turning  on  his  heel,  he  pursued  his  course  with  merely 
telling  Dick  "  it  was  all  very  fine,  but  he  had  taken  his 
leave  of  thistle-whipping." 

Our  hero's  next  visit  was  to  the  keeper,  to  inquire  into 
the  state  of  his  kennel.  This  he  found  quite  to  his  satis- 
faction. It  contained  three  brace  of  well-broken  setters  ; 
three  couples  and  a  half  of  spaniels,  all  as  mute  as  a  gate- 
post ;  two  capital  Newfoundlanders,  then  just  coming  into 
fashion  as  retrievers  of  wounded  game  ;  and  four  brace  of 
greyhounds  of  the  best  blood  in  the  country,  some  of  them 
having  proved  themselves  such  by  the  various  prizes  they 
had  gained.  But  matters  did  not  end  here.  Two  brace 
of  fine  young  setters  had  been  sent  off  into  Cheshire, 
in  the  pairing  season,  to  be  broken  on  the  down- 
charge  system,  by  old  Potts,  and  were  not  as  yet  returned. 
"Your  kennel,  Perren,  is  all  right,"  said  our  hero  ; 
"I  think  there  will  be  few  better  teams  than  mine, 
next  year,  on  the  moors.  How  does  Jack  get  on  in  his 
business  ?  Is  he  improved  in  his  shooting  and  vermin- 
catching  ? " 


THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN        241 

"  There  is  not  a  better  shot  than  Jack  in  the  conntry, 
sir,"  replied  Perren  ;  "  and  as  to  vermin-catching,  not  a 
crow  nor  a  magj^ie  can  escape  him,  much  less  a  weasel  or 
a  stoat.  I'll  back  him,  indeed,  to  kill  magpies  against  any 
keeper  in  England." 

"  How  does  he  go  to  work  ? "  inquired  Frank  Eaby. 

"Why,  sir,  perhaps  you  will  smile  when  I  tell  you,"' 
answered  the  keeper  ;  "  he  gets  a  live  magpie  and  a  cat,, 
and  has  them  staked  down  near  to  a  wood,  within  a  certain 
distance  of  each  other,  but  not  quite  within  reach,  when 
the  cries  of  the  bird,  at  fear  of  the  cat,  are  so  loud  and 
unnatural  as  to  bring  every  magpie  in  the  wood  to  the 
spot.  He  is  sure  to  get  a  double  shot ;  and  such  is  the 
infatuation  of  these  birds,  by  the  scene  that  is  going  on,, 
that  they  return  to  the  spot,  and  thus  afford  him  a  second^ 
and  sometimes  a  third  chance." 

"  By  the  way,  Perren,"  said  our  hero,  "  I  heard  a  good 
story  of  a  magpie  the  other  day  in  London — or,  I  had 
rather  said,  the  mention  of  the  bird  was  very  happily 
applied.  A  friend  of  the  Prince  of  Wales,  who  says  man}^ 
good  things,  and  is  to  a  certain  extent  privileged  to  say 
them  in  the  royal  presence,  was  complimenting  his  Eoyal 
Highness  on  the  excellence  of  his  cook,  adding  that  he 
supposed  '  there  was  only  one  pie  which  baffled  his  skill.' 
'  What  jDie  is  that  ? '  inquired  the  Prince.  '  Why,  sir," 
replied  the  wag,  '  he  cannot  make  a  magpie.^ " 

"And  how  are  you  off  for  foxes?"  continued  Frank 
Raby.  "Although  I  do  not  hunt  in  this  country,  and 
perhaps  never  shall  do  so,  I  am  not  on  that  account  the 
less  anxious  that  a  good  head  of  foxes  should  be  found  in. 
it,  and  in  our  own  covers  especially." 

"  We  were  not  deficient  last  season,  sir,"  replied  the 
keeper  ;  "  and  they  have  whipped  off  from  two  heavy 
vixens  within  the  last  fortnight ;  there  is  also  a  litter  of 
cubs  already  in  the  Big  Wood  ;  but  a  bad  misfortune 
happened  to  Jack,  a  few  weeks  back.  He  laid  a  trap  over- 
night for  a  polecat,  and  found  a  fox  in  it  in  the  morning, 
and,  what  was  worst  of  all,  a  heavy  vixen,  almost  ready  to> 
lay  up  her  cubs." 

"  Anc  what  then  1 "  exclaimed  our  young  sportsman 
hastily  ;  "  was  she  dead  ? " 

"  She  was  not  dead,  sir,"  replied  the  keeper,  "  but  her 
leg  was  so  dreadfully  mangled  that  I  cut  oft'  the  injured 
part  and  let  her  go.     She  was,  however,  found  dead,  a  fewr 
16 


242        THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN 

days  afterwards,  by  one  of  our  woodmen,  in  the  Birch 
■Coppice.  Jack  immediately  told  me  of  what  happened, 
and  recjuested  that  you  should  be  informed  of  it,  sir,  for 
which  I  gave  him  praise." 

"  That  was  much  to  his  credit,"  resumed  our  young 
sportsman.  "Jack  always  was  a  good  fellow,  and  I  am 
sure  he  would  almost  as  soon  have  had  his  own  leg  in 
a  trap  of  his  own  setting  as  that  of  a  fox  ;  but,  in  future, 
let  him  give  over  setting  traps  of  any  sort.  I  hear  keepers 
say  rabbit-traps  do  no  harm,  but  I  know  to  the  contrary  ; 
they  not  only  will  hold  and  maim  foxes,  but  foxes  will 
not  lie  in  covers  where  they  are  set." 

In  our  zeal  for  the  success  of  the  stables  and  kennel,  we 
have  passed  over  the  family  at  the  Abbey  without  a  word 
of  notice.  After  an  absence  of  some  months,  and  those 
forming  part  of  the  second  year  after  the  melancholy 
event  that  occurred,  in  the  death  of  the  eldest  son,  Frank 
Raby  was  not  void  of  anxiety,  on  his  arrival  at  the  Abbey, 
as  to  the  state  in  which  he  might  find  his  father  and 
mother.  In  Mr.  Raby  he  observed  little,  if  any,  visible 
alteration  either  in  person  or  manner.  As  regarded  the 
former,  his  uniform  habits  of  life,  a  naturally  sound  con- 
•stitution,  regular  out-of-doors'  exercise,  and,  up  to  a  late 
period,  almost  uninterrupted  prosperity,  if  they  had  not 
bidden  defiance  to  the  all-consuming  power  of  Time,  had 
caused  his  hand  to  fall  so  lightly  upon  him,  that,  in  the 
eyes  of  Frank,  he  did  not  appear  to  be  a  day  older  than 
when  he  first  knew  him  as  his  father  ;  and  as  regarded 
the  latter — his  demeanour  in  the  family  circle — he  had 
called  both  philosophy  and  religion  to  his  aid  in  bearing 
up  against  a  blow  which  he  had  not  the  power  to  ward 
off.  But  not  so  the  amiable  and  motherly  Lady  Charlotte. 
The  loss  of  her  favourite  son — the  first-born  of  her  love — 
had  so  scathed  and  scorched  her  soul,  that  neither  the 
sympathy  and  kind  offices  of  her  friends,  nor  the  most 
delicate  and  cherishing  attentions  of  her  family — still  less 
the  occupation  and  amusements  sought  out  for  her,  were 
able  to  dissipate  her  grief,  and  wean  her  from  the  recollec- 
tion of  her  child,  and  the  tragical  scenes  she  had  gone 
through.  She  would  occasionally  appear  joyless  where 
all  around  M^as  gay ;  the  hue  of  health  and  contentment 
had  nearly  forsaken  her  comjDlexion ;  and  her  smiles, 
which  were  wont  to  be  so  redundant,  were  now  as  transient 
and   fleeting  as  an  April   sun,  peeping  from  beneath  a 


THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN        245 

watery  cloud,  but  obscured  nearly  as  suddenly  as  it  bursts 
forth.  Such  vicissitudes  as  these,  however,  are  fearful 
lessons  to  all  possessors  of  wealth  and  honours  ;  and  their 
participation  in  them  tends  to  render  those  who  possess 
not  such  dazzling  appearances  more  satisfied  and  contented 
with  their  lot.  But  Lady  Charlotte's  trial  was  not  yet 
completed.  Having  constantly  j)resent  to  her  mind  the 
figure  of  her  departed  son  during  his  illness — the  deep 
red  hectic  spot  that  burned  in  the  centre  of  his  cheek  ; 
the  skin  of  his  forehead  of  that  transparent  white  which 
added  the  mockery  of  beauty  to  the  ravages  of  disease  ; 
his  bright  brown  hair  having  that  silken  flow  peculiar 
to  persons  of  delicate  frame  ;  his  form  wasted  to  a  fearful 
thinness — to  the  utmost  extent,  indeed,  to  which  the 
human  frame  can  be  reduced  without  being  dissolved  ; 
and  in  his  gait,  the  flat-footed  tread  of  weakness,  instead 
of  the  bounding  step  of  youth  which  once  was  his  ;  when 
dwelling  upon  this  sad  picture,  then,  and  viewing  it,  as 
she  did,  through  the  medium  of  a  morbid  imagination, 
natural  though  we  may  allow  it  to  have  been, — for,  as 
the  poet  says — 

"When  trees  do  drop  their  fruits  in  autumn  ripeness, 
'Tis  Nature's  common  course,  and  so  we  look  on't ; 
But  when  unseasonous  frosts  nip  promising  buds, 
And  lovely  blossoms,  then  the  heart  grows  sad 
To  see  those  troth-plights  of  much  after  riches 
Untimely  broken  ;  " — 

she  ever  and  anon  fancied  that  signs  of  the  same  insidious 
complaint  were  visible  in  the  person  of  her  eldest  daughter, 
just  budding  into  womanhood.  Then  her  imagination  was 
strengthened  and  her  fears  increased  by  having  read  in 
books  that  there  is  a  sacred  halo  round  those  whom  we 
see  in  the  bloom  of  years  destined  for  the  grave,  and  even 
that — bugbear  as  it  might  be — would  occasionally  present 
itself  to  her  diseased  mind.  Here,  however,  her  prayers 
were  heard,  and  the  cup  of  bitterness  was  not  suffered  to 
overflow.  Nature  came  to  the  relief  of  one  of  the  fairest 
of  her  creatures  :  as  the  frame  of  Miss  Raby  expanded, 
her  strength  proportionately  increased,  and  in  three  years 
from  the  period  to  which  we  are  alluding,  there  were  not 
two  healthier  nor  handsomer  young  ladies  than  herself  in 
her  own  county,  or  in  the  next.  The  health  and  spirits  of 
her  amiable  and  once  beautiful  mother  also  revived  to 


244        THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN 

a  certain  degree,  and  tliat  was  as  much  as  could  be  ex- 
pected ;  for  the  heart  of  woman — 

is  like  the  youthful  tree 


The  lightning  strikes  to  earth  ; 
Once  scathed,  its  bloom  no  more  will  be : 
It  knows  no  second  birth." 

The  domestic  news,  and  that  of  the  immediate  neighbour- 
hood, had  been  conveyed  to  our  hero  by  letters  from  the 
various  members  of  his  family,  during  his  sojourn  in 
Oxfordshire  ;  and  his  uncle  had  been  visited  by  him  for 
a  few  days,  during  a  temporary  stop  to  hunting  by  frost. 
Mr.  Egerton  had  succeeded  to  the  living  of  Amstead,  it 
having  been  presented  to  him  by  Mr.  Kaby  on  the  decease 
of  Dr.  Chapman  ;  was  married  at  the  end  of  the  twelve- 
month to  the  second  Miss  Chapman  ;  and,  having  the 
promise  from  Sir  John  Inkleton  of  the  living  of  Orton, 
on  the  decease  of  its  then  incumbent,  far  advanced  in 
years,  this  amiable  man  and  sound  scholar  had  every 
prospect  of  happiness  within  the  range  of  his  moderate 
desires,  Keither  were  his  expectations  ill-founded.  He 
lived  to  see  his  family  grow  up  and  prosper ;  and  it  is 
scarcely  necessary  to  add  that  he  proved  a  treasure  to  his 
parishioners ;  for,  independent  of  being  an  excellent 
classical  scholar,  he  possessed  what,  to  be  a  good  divine, 
every  man  of  that  order  ought  to  possess — namely,  a 
tolerable  fund  of  every  species  of  useful  knowledge  ;  and 
being  conversant  with  many  other  branches  of  science 
besides  the  classics  and  the  doctrine  of  his  own  sacred 
calling,  he  became  generally  conducive  to  the  benefit  of 
those  whose  souls  were  committed  to  his  care. 


CHAPTER    XIV 

A  few  words  on  summering  hunters.     Mr.  Corbet's  country  and 
men,  and  the  finish  of  the  season  with  the  Atherstone. 

AS  may  be  supposed,  the  paddocks  for  summering  the 
hunters  were  finished  by  the  appointed  time,  and 
the  orders  of  our  young  sportsman  had  been  strictly 
complied  with  in  the  construction  of  them.  Each  hovel 
contained  two  horses,  which  were  shut  up  in  them   at 


THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN        245 

night,  as  well  as  in  the  heat  of  the  day,  when  wetted 
matting  was  placed  in  the  open  windows,  to  cool  the  air, 
and  prevent  the  entrance  of  flies.  Their  hours  of  being 
let  loose  in  the  small  space  of  ground  allotted  to  them,  on 
the  outside  of  their  hovels,  were  from  four  to  eight  or 
nine  in  the  morning,  and  from  seven  or  eight  to  ten  in 
the  evening,  unless  the  weather  was  wet,  when  they  were 
invariably  confined  to  their  hovels.  Their  food  was, 
occasionally,  tares  or  lucern,  in  some  cases  mixed  with 
their  hay  ;  and  in  no  instance  were  they  allowed  green 
meat  altogether  for  more  than  three  or  four  consecutive 
days.  And  another  precaution  was  observed.  The  horses 
were  sorted  according  to  the  nature  of  their  constitution — 
those  which  carried  much  flesh  being  put  together,  and 
vice  versa,  the  quantity  of  their  food  being  regulated 
accordingly.  In  the  case  of  two,  indeed,  such  was  their 
aptitude  to  gather  flesh,  that,  after  the  first  month,  they 
were  ridden  out  to  exercise  for  at  least  two  hours,  in  a  cool 
place,  and  on  turf.  Their  general  allowance  of  oats  was 
three-quarters  of  a  peck  to  each  horse,  in  the  twenty -four 
hours,  a  few  old  beans  being  given  to  two  of  them,  who 
were  a  little  deficient  in  stamina,  although  the  most 
brilliant  of  the  whole  stud  in  a  burst.  Their  hinder 
shoes  were  taken  ofi",  but  their  fore  feet  were  protected 
by  tips,  and  their  toes  were  kept  shortened,  the  same  as 
if  they  had  been  in  work,  although  little  was  done  to  the 
sole,  and  the  frog  not  touched  at  all.  Each  horse,  with  the 
exception  of  one  that  had  thrushes,  and  which  was  under 
a  process  of  cure  by  the  groom,  stood  in  wetted  clay  for 
the  space  of  two  hours  daily,  for  the  benefit  of  their  feet 
and  legs,  and  some  light  doses  of  physic  were  administered 
to  such  as  exhibited  symptoms  of  foulness.  Alterative 
powders,  also,  consisting  of  levigated  antimony  and 
sulphur,  were  given  in  their  corn  to  three  who  did  not 
coat  well  in  the  preceding  winter,  and  the  best  effects 
were  experienced  from  them.  The  stud  were  put  into 
these  paddocks  on  the  8th  day  of  May,  and  taken  into 
the  stables  again  on  the  1st  day  of  August,  during  which 
time  no  accident  of  any  kind  occurred  to  them.  More- 
over, their  condition  was  excellent ;  that  is  to  say,  to 
commence  the  preparation  for  severe  work  in  the  hunt- 
ing season,  from  the  firmness  of  their  flesh  in  the  first 
instance ;  from  their  not  being  overladen  with  it,  to  the 
injury  of   their  legs,  in  the   second  ;  and   from   only  a 


246        THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN 

trifling  diminution  of  muscular  powers,  in  the  third. 
The  feet  of  these  horses  also  appeared  very  difterent  to 
what  their  groom  had  hitherto  seen  in  those  of  hunters 
previously  under  his  care,  which  had  run  abroad  for  three 
months  in  the  summer.  They  were,  in  fact,  in  a  more 
perfect  state  than  when  they  had  left  off  work  in  the 
spring,  as  far  as  crust  and  sole  and  frog  were  concerned  ; 
and,  moreover,  their  form  altogether  had  approached 
nearer  to  the  natural  one,  by  having  proper  attention  paid 
to  them  during  three  months'  growth. 

This  system  of  summering  hunters 'having  been  never 
before  seen,  nor  even  heard  of,  in  this  part  of  the  country, 
it  excited  no  little  surprise,  and  the  expression  of  sage 
opinions  that  the  young  Squire's  hunters  vvould  be  spoiled 
for  want  of  their  summer's  run  in  the  park,  which  the 
old  Squire's  hunters  had  always  enjoyed,  and  those  of 
the  Squire's  father  before  him.  The  following  dialogue 
occurred  between  Mr,  Robson  the  steward,  Dick  the  hunts- 
man, and  Frank  Eaby's  groom,  as  they  were  looking  at  the 
horses  in  the  paddocks. 

"  Poor  beasts,"  said  the  Scotchman  ;  "  I  am  sorry  to  see 
you  shut  up  this  way,  in  a  prison,  instead  of  enjoying 
yourselves  at  your  pleasure  in  the  park,  after  the  hard- 
ships you  have  undergone.  And  "  (addressing  himself  to 
James^  the  groom),  said  he,  "  who  put  all  this  new  fashion 
into  Mr.  Francis's  head  ? " 

"  Lord  Sandford's  groom,  sir,"  replied  James. 

"And  are  you  not  sorry,  James,  that  your  master 
listened  to  him  ? — are  you  not  sorry  to  see  the  poor  beasts 
shut  up  after  this  manner  ? "  resumed  the  steward. 

"  Indeed  I  am  not,  sir,"  answered  James  ;  "  for  if  it  has 
the  same  effect  on  these  horses  that  it  had  last  winter  on 
Lord  Sandford's,  I  shall  not  have  the  trouble  with  them 
next  winter  that  I  had  last." 

"  What  d'ye  mean,  James  ?  "  inquired  the  steward. 

"I  mean  "^  this,  sir,"  said  the  groom:  "I  had  rather 
look  after  three  horses  in  the  same  condition  that  Lord 
Sandford's  were  all  through  the  last  season,  from  the  very 
beginning  indeed,  than  after  any  two  we  had  in  our  stud. 
They  were  cleaned  in  half  the  time  it  took  to  clean  ours 
after  hunting  ;  and  what  is  more,  they  never  broke  out 
into  a  cold  sweat,  as  ours  so  often  did,  after  we  thought 
we  had  got  them  quite  dry  and  comfortable.  Then  I 
used  to  watch  them  when  they  were  going  to  cover,  in 


THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN        247 

the  morning,  along  Avith  our  liorses,  especially  before 
Christmas.  Ours  would  be  in  a  sweat  if  the  morning  was 
at  all  close,  whilst  my  lord's  would  be  as  dry  as  a  bone, 
I  thought  to  myself,  sir,  that  this  must  be  a  great 
advantage  to  these  horses  over  ours,  when  they  came  to 
follow  the  hounds  through  a  run,  as,  for  my  own  part,  I 
always  feel  weak  after  sweating  much  in  my  work.  So 
you  see,  sir,  if  it  is  a  little  hard  on  master's  horses  to 
be  pent  up  in  those  j^laces  all  the  summer,  instead  of 
galloping  about  and  playing  in  the  park,  they  get  the  best 
of  it  in  the  winter,  by  being  in  so  much  better  heart  for 
their  work.  Then,  again,  they  are  not  tormented  with 
the  flies  here,  as  they  are  in  the  park,  for  I  have  often 
watched  the  old  Squire's  hunters  in  the  summer,  and 
been  really  sorry  to  see  how  they  were  plagued.  It  was 
nothing  but  stamp,  stamp,  stamp,  all  day  long.  And" 
(addressing  the  huntsman)  "you  remember,  Dick,  that 
you  always  said  your  famous  old  mare,  the  Queen,  would 
not  have  turned  roarer,  nor  Stumps  have  gone  broken- 
winded,  if  they  had  not  been  turned  out  to  grass." 

"  I  certainly  did  so,"  replied  Dick,  "  and  think  so  still. 
Indeed,  I  am  something  inclined,  Mr.  Eobson,  to  be  of 
James's  way  of  thinking  as  to  keeping  hunters  in  the 
summer  months.  I  have  often  said  to  myself,  when  I 
have  seen  the  horses  I  ride  with  the  hounds  galloping 
about  this  park,  where  the  ground  has  been  as  hard  as  a 
barn-floor,  surely  I  give  you  enough  of  galloping  in  the 
hunting  season.  Then,  again,  they  come  up  so  fat  from 
this  good  land,  that  they  never  seem  to  me  to  be  anything 
like  themselves  till  after  Christmas  is  turned  ;  and, 
moreover,  when  I  have  done  with  them  for  the  season, 
and  they  are  stripped  for  turning  out  for  the  summer, 
they  appear  to  me  to  be  just  in  proper  trim." 

"  Well,"  said  Mr.  Eobson,  "  I  am  not  one  of  those  who 
refuse  to  listen  to  reason  ;  and  from  what  I  have  heard 
from  James  and  yourself,  I  am  much  disposed  to  believe 
that  this  method  of  treating  valuable  hunters  may  be 
better  than  letting  them  run  loose  in  the  park,  that  is 
to  say,  as  far  as  their  condition  is  concerned;  but  the 
expense  is  very  great." 

"  One  would  think  so,"  resumed  James,  "  but  master 
says  it  is  not.  Indeed,  he  declares  it  is  much  the  cheapest 
plan ;  and  Lord  Sandford's  groom  told  me  he  has  often 
heard  mv  lord  sav  he  considers  he  has  saved  £2000  in 


248        THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN 

the  five  years  that  he  has  tried  it  in  his  large  stud.  In 
the  first  place,  never  a  summer,  he  said,  passed  over 
before,  that  some  accident,  or  indeed  accidents,  did  not 
happen  which  occasioned  him  to  buy  more  horses  ;  and, 
in  the  next,  he  said  that,  if  one  of  the  stud  only  were  to 
be  sold  at  Tattersall's  at  the  commencement  of  the  follow- 
ing season  he  would  fetch  as  much  extra  price,  by  his 
superior  condition  and  appearance,  as  would  repay  the 
expenses  of  summering  the  whole  lot  on  this  plan.  In 
fact,  the  groom  told  me  he  had  seen  my  lord's  own 
calculation,  which  showed  that,  had  he  to  pay  for  his 
twelve  hunters  at  grass  for  three  months  in  the  summer, 
the  diff'erence  between  the  charge  for  it,  and  the  expenses 
of  keeping  them  after  this  fashion,  would  not  be  more 
than  twenty-five  or  thirty  pounds  at  furthest." 

"  Depend  upon  it,  my  lord  is  right  !  "  exclaimed  Dick. 

"  Well,  I  think  so,  too,"  observed  the  Scotchman. 

"  1  am  quite  sure  of  it"  said  the  groom  ;  " and  I  am 
also  sure  that  no  gentleman's  horses  in  any  hunt  we  may 
go  into  next  season,  unless  it  is  Lord  Sandford's,  and  a 
few  others,  belonging  to  some  of  his  friends  who  have 
acted  on  his  plan,  will  look  as  ours  will  look  ;  and  I  have 
reason  to  believe  we  shall  be  able  to  do  with  one  helper 
less  in  the  stables." 

"  That  will  be  no  trifle,"  said  the  steward,  and  here  the 
conversation  dropped. 

When  the  next  season  commenced,  the  appearance  and 
condition  of  the  horses  fully  answered  the  expectations  of 
our  young  sportsman  and  his  groom — the  latter,  indeed, 
feeling  proud  of  them,  and,  of  course,  claiming  the  merit 
to  himself  ;  and  after  a  fortnight's  hare-hunting  with  his 
father,  Frank  Raby  and  his  stud  made  their  appearance 
in  Warwickshire.  But  why  select  Warwickshire,  when 
other  and  more  fashionable  countries  were  at  his  option — 
Leicestershire,  Northamptonshire,  &c.  ?  The  answer  is 
comprised  in  a  few  words.  Neither  his  purse  nor  his 
stud  was  then  equal  to  Leicestershire,  in  the  first  place  ; 
and  in  the  next,  he  was  strongly  recommended  to 
Warwickshire,  on  account  of  the  gentleman  who  then 
hunted  it,  and  the  harmony  and  good  fellowship  that  was 
said  to  distinguish  the  society  of  that  long-established 
Hunt,  and  of  the  neighbourhood  generally  in  which  the 
headquarters  of  the  Hunt  were  established.  And  who 
was  the  gentleman  who  then  hunted  Warwickshire,  and 


THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN        249 

was  considered  so  particularly  worthy  of  our  young 
sportsman's  notice.  The  justly  celebrated  Mr.  Corbet — 
and  celebrated,  not  merely  as  a  master  of  foxhounds  and 
a  sportsman,  but  as  possessing,  to  the  greatest  extent,  the 
manners  and  deportment  of  the  highly-finished  gentleman, 
although  of  a  school  of  a  somewhat  earlier  date  than  the 
period  to  which  we  now  allude.  But  it  was  from  a  desire 
on  the  part  of  his  father  and  a  few  of  his  particular 
friends,  that  Frank  Raby  should  witness  a  specimen  of 
the  school  which  had  given  to  Mr.  Corbet  these  highly- 
finished  manners  and  deportment,  that  a  visit  to  this 
country,  in  preference  to  any  other,  was  urged  upon 
him. 

"I  see  a  little  of  it,"  said  Mr.  Raby  to  his  son,  when 
discussing  these  matters,  "in  my  own  small  way,  as 
master  of  a  pack  of  harriers  ;  but,  depend  upon  it,  there 
are  not  many  situations  in  which  the  manners,  the 
deportment,  and  the  temper  of  men  are  oftener  called 
forth  into  action,  and  this  to  public  view,  than  when 
placed  in  the  trying  one  of  master  of  English  foxhounds. 
First,  be  it  remembered,  it  is  a  post  of  no  trifling 
eminence,  and  is  apt  to  engender  a  little  pride  of  place,  as 
most  other  situations  do." 

In  this  situation,  then,  as  master  of  a  pack  of  fox- 
hounds, Mr.  Corbet  was  considered  a  pattern-card  ;  and 
as  Mr.  Raby  had  good  reason  to  believe  that,  one  day  or 
another,  his  son  would  be  similarly  placed,  he  was  on 
that  account  more  anxious  for  his  visiting  Warwickshire 
whilst  Mr.  Corbet,;  hunted  it.  He  was  also  informed  that 
there  were  a  few  very  eniment  sportsmen,  members  of 
this  Hunt,  from  whom  some  good  lessons  might  be 
derived.  That  he  was  not  disappointed  in  the  result,  the 
following  letter  from  our  young  sportsman  to  his  friend 
Hargrave  will  pretty  clearly  show  : — 

"Stratford-upon-Avon,  Dec,  9. 
"Dear  Hargrave, — I  am  delighted  with  all  I  have 
hitherto  seen  in  Warwickshire.  Although  there  are  a 
few  rough  fixtures  in  it,  it  is,  taken  altogether,  a  right 
good  fox-hunting  country,  and  as  full  of  foxes  as  it  can 
hold.  Indeed,  they  say  here  that  the  life  of  a  fox  is 
quite  as  safe  from  the  gun  of  the  poacher  or  farmer,  as 
the  life  of  a  man  is  from  the  hand  of  the  assassin.  And 
I  do  not  marvel  at  this.     Old  Corbet,  as  he  is  called,  is 


250        THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN 

the  most  proper  man  I  have  ever  yet  seen  as  a  master  of 
foxhounds,  and  as  such,  of  course,  popular  amongst  all 
descriptions  of  persons.  The  farmers,  indeed,  apj^ear  to 
adore  him  (as  they  generally  do  a  really  well-bred 
gentleman,  which  Mr.  G.  is),  and  the  gentlemen  love  and 
respect  him.  He  is  also  a  good  sportsman,  and  a  perfect 
enthusiast  when  his  hounds  are  in  chase,  although,  strange 
to  say,  he  will  not  ride  over  anything  approaching  to  a 
large  fence.  How  he  gets  on  as  he  does — for  he  is 
generally  pretty  near  at  the  end  of  the  run — I  cannot 
imagine,  unless  it  be  by  his  intimate  knowledge  of  the 
country,  as  well  as  of  the  line  foxes  generally  take,  and 
the  speed  and  goodness  of  his  horses,  which  are  first-rate. 
His  huntsman.  Will  Burrows,  is  my  delight.  He  is  a 
sulky -looking  fellow,  and  I  believe  his  looks  do  not  belie 
him  ;  but  it  is  when  his  hounds  are  running  that  he 
excites  my  admiration.  In  the  first  place,  he  is  a  beautiful 
horseman ;  in  the  next,  his  jjtpe  is  the  clearest  and  most 
melodious  you  ever  heard.  Then,  to  hear  him  cheer  his 
hounds, — the  bitches,  especially,  which  are  his  favourites 
— transports  one.  He  finishes  his  thrilling  halloo,  which 
he  ever  and  anon  encourages  them  with,  even  when  going 
their  best  pace,  with — ^  Have  at  him,  my  lasses,  and  stick 
to  him  till  he  dies.'  But  as  to  his  never  being  many 
yards  from  his  lasses,  who  can  wonder  at  that,  seeing  the 
cattle  he  rides  ?  He  has  four  slapping  nags,  able  to  carry 
fourteen  stone,  whereas  his  weight  with  his  saddle  does 
not  exceed  eleven.  And  a  word  or  two  about  his  horses, 
not  a  bad  hint  for  us  who  hope  one  day  or  another  to 
keep  foxhounds.  All  Mr.  Corbet's  horses,  with  the 
excejotion  of  those  he  himself  breeds,  are  purchased,  at 
weaning  time,  from  his  tenants  or  the  neighbouring 
farmers.  He  thus  has  not  only  a  great  choice,  but  has 
the  advantage  of  having  all  geldings,  and  no  mares,  in  his 
stables.  I  understand  the  price  he  gives  is,  generally, 
about  twenty  pounds,  which,  reckoning  good  keep  for  the 
next  four  years,  puts  excellent  five-year-olds  into  his  stud 
at  about  eighty  pounds,  which  no  doubt  is  cheaper  than 
purchasing  them — all  risks  included. 

"Mr.  Corbet's  hounds  are,  in  my  opinion,  very  good, 
but  his  blood  does  not,  I  believe,  rank  quite  so  high  as 
that  of  some  other  kennels.  They  say  he  has  done 
mischief  —  causing  a  certain  degree  of  slackness  —  by 
breeding  too  much  in-and-in,  or  from  one  particular  sort. 


THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN        251 

This  has  given  him  the  somewhat  classic  title  of  the 
Father  of  the  Trojans,  and  the  foundation  of  it  is  this. 
Many  years  back,  when  he  hunted  another  country,  his 
hounds  came  to  a  check  at  the  wall  of  a  gentleman's  park. 
The  scent  appeared  to  be  lost,  when  one  hound,  called 
Trojan,  was  seen  carrying  it  along  the  top  of  the  wall,  on 
which  the  fox  had  run,  and  thus  baffled  his  pursuers  for 
a  time.  This  was  the  distinguishing  characteristic  of  the 
hound  alluded  to  ;  and  his  after-performances  being  on  a 
I^ar  with  it,  be  became  not  only  the  favourite  stud-hound 
in  the  kennel,  but  nearly  the  founder  of  an  entire  pack, 
in  which  the  parent  cross  was  carried  too  far.  As  i^ro- 
fessed  judges  entertain  this  opinion  of  Mr.  C.'s  hounds, 
it  would  ill  become  me  to  dispute  it ;  but  this  I  will  say, 
that,  as  far  as  I  have  seen  them  in  the  field,  I  can  find 
very  little  to  condemn.  The  newly  prevailing  fashion 
of  dividing  the  sexes  is  adopted  in  the  field,  and  the 
character  of  the  two  packs  is  that,  although  under  very 
adverse  circumstances  the  dogs  may  be  the  most  efiicient, 
the  bitches  are  more  brilliant  with  a  straight- running  fox 
and  a  good  scent.  Of  the  country,  as  I  have  already  said, 
there  is  good  and  indifterent — none  very  bad,  but  the 
good  greatly  prevails  ;  and  by  way  of  giving  you  an  idea 
of  the  part  esteemed  indifterent,  I  must  tell  you  that 
I  saw  a  run,  last  week,  from  one  of  the  covers  in  it, 
called  Farnliorough,  of  twelve  miles,  in  which  we  only 
crossed  one  ploughed  field  !  On  the  other  hand,  on  the 
Northamptonshire  side  of  the  country,  there  is  as  fine  a 
grazing  district  as  is  to  be  seen  in  Leicestershire  or 
Northamptonshire.  Then  there  is  another  country,  called 
the  Meriden  country,  which  these  hounds  hunt  for  two 
periods  in  the  year,  and  we  have  just  been  staying  at 
Meriden,  on  the  high  road  from  Coventry  to  London, 
where  the  kennel  is,  and  whence  it  is  called  the  Meriden 
country.  The  covers  are  large  and  frequent,  and  it  is 
altogether  very  unlike  the  Stratford  country  ;  but,  speak- 
ing as  a  sportsman,  I  cannot  withhold  my  praise  of  it. 
It  is  a  fine,  wild,  fox-hunting-looking  country,  in  which 
the  foxes  are  so  good  that  they  seldom  hang  at  all  in  the 
covers,  which  are,  for  the  most  part,  well  cut  into  rides, 
and  we  have  been  having  very  good  sjDort  in  it.  But  it 
being  better  calculated  for  spring-hunting,  when  travelling 
foxes  are  to  be  met  with,  I  anticipate  a  great  treat  on  our 
next  visit  to  Meriden. 


^52        THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN 

"  I  have  been  elected  a  member  of  the  Stratford  Hunt 
-Club,  wliich  dine  together  every  day,  at  the  head  inn  in  the 
lown,  the  room  in  which  they  dine  being  honoured  with 
•the  title  of  one  of  Shakspeare's  plays.  Mr.  Corbet  gives  us 
his  company  every  Thursday,  when  numerous  visitors  are 
-added  to  our  party,  and  he  generally  gives  us  a  dinner  at 
his  house  once  in  the  course  of  the  week.  AVe  have  great 
fun  in  the  '  Tempest,'  for  that  is  the  name  of  our  room  ; 
but  beyond  a  bottle  of  claret,  and  the  wine  drunk  at 
•^dinner,  nothing  like  excess  is  committed.  Great  part  of 
■the  'fun'  proceeds  from  handicapping  our  horses,  and 
sporting  our  hands  when  the  award  is  made  ;  but  beyond 
a,  few  pounds  hazarded  in  this  way,  and  five  or  ten  pounds 
•on  a  rubber  at  whist,  nothing  like  gambling  is  practised 
■in  the  '  Tempest,'  But  perhaps  the  most  interesting  part 
•of  my  letter  may  be  a  description  of  some  of  the  leading 
•members  of  this  celebrated  hunt.  First,  then,  let  me  tell 
;you,  there  are  two  brothers,  by  the  name  of  Cannons, 
Warwickshire  men,  who  are  absolute  prodigies  in  the 
•field,  the  j^ounger  one  especially,  whose  name  is  Robert. 
'The  elder  rides,  at  least,  seventeen  stone  and  a  half,  and 
Robert  sixteen  stone  ;  notwithstanding  which,  not  a  light- 
weight in  the  country  can  beat  them  ;  in  fact,  Robert  is 
decidedly  the  best  man  in  the  hunt,  let  the  pace  or  the 
country  be  what  it  may.  But  what  surprises  me  is,  in 
the  first  place,  the  extraordinary  sort  of  eagle-eye  this  man 
— I  mean  the  younger  Cannons — has  to  a  country,  when 
making  his  way  over  it  with  hounds,  and  also  when  re- 
iturning  home  after  hunting,  when  he  may  be  called  the 
•oracle  of  the  field.  '  Which  is  the  best  way  ? '  says  one. 
•*  Ask  Robert  Cannons,'  is  the  answer  invariably  given. 
"Then  his  coolness,  when  hounds  are  running,  also 
.•astonishes  me.  He  never  appears  to  be  in  a  hurry,  much 
less  in  a  flutter  ;  and  I  have  already  derived  more  instruc- 
tion from  seeing  him  ride  to  hounds  than  I  have  hitherto 
•derived  from  all  former  experience.  And,  added  to  all 
these  good  qualities,  as  a  horseman  in  the  field,  he  has 
the  most  beautiful  and  light  hand  on  his  horse  I  have 
ever  yet  beheld;  he  never  is  seen  quarrelling  with,  or 
molesting  him  in  any  way,  but,  as  though  they  were 
incorporated  with  each  other,  they  go  sailing  along,  like 
a  ship  before  the  wind,  and  very  nearly  as  straight.  In 
fact,  few  fences  can  stop  this  fine  sportsman — for  such  he 
likewise  is — by  reason  of  the  weight  of  metal  himself  and 


THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN        25;^ 

his  horses  oppose  to  them  ;  and  it  is  astonishing  how  few 
falls  he  gets,  taking  the  season  throughout,  in  which  lie- 
never  misses  a  day  at  the  cover  side.  Nor  is  it  only  in. 
Warwickshire  that  he  shines.  I  was  told  that,  one  day 
last  season,  he  was  quite  a  leading  man  in  a  severe  burst 
over  Leicestershire  with  the  Cottesmore  hounds,  although 
he  got  a  very  indifferent  start.  He  is,  of  course,  well 
mounted,  and  is  occasionally  offered  immense  prices  for 
his  horses,  which,  however,  he  generally  declines.  He 
has  now  two  horses — the  Conqueror  and  Knowsley,  the 
latter  an  entire  horse  —  for  which  I  would  willingly 
give  him  1000  guineas,  could  I  conveniently  spare  the 
money.  But  as  I  have  taken  upon  myself  to  sketch  the 
characters  of  these  gentlemen,  I  must  not  stop  at  their 
mere  accomplishments  in  the  field.  They  are  all  that 
is  amiable  and  delightful  in  private  life,  and  their 
hospitality  has  no  bounds.  For  instance,  it  was  only  last 
week  that  I  myself  made  one  of  a  dozen  sportsmen — ten, 
in  scarlet,  and  two  in  black  coats — that  turned  out  each, 
morning,  equipped  for  the  field,  having  been  domiciled 
under  their  roof  for  a  week,  and  fed  with  the  best  of 
everything. 

"We  have  likewise  two  very  celebrated  sportsmen  in 
this  country,  whose  names  stand  high  in  Leicestershire  ; 
namely,  John  Halls  and  John  Lockwood.  The  former  is 
one  of  the  very  best  of  the  gentlemen  jockeys  at  Bibury, 
and  the  latter  remarkable  for  the  high  prices  for  which 
he  has  sold  his  horses,  after  distinguishing  themselves 
under  his  weight — upwards  of  fourteen  stone.  A  short 
time  back  he  sold  one,  called  Faith,  for  750  guineas,  in 
consequence  of  his  having  been  the  only  one  that  could 
live  with  the  hounds  over  Newbold  Field,  and  leap  a 
large  fence  into  Lord  Northampton's  park  afterwards. 
So  anxious  was  the  gentleman  who  purchased  him  to 
possess  himself  of  such  a  treasure,  that  he  sent  an  express 
off,  in  the  night  of  the  day  on  which  the  circumstance 
occurred,  to  make  an  offer  of  the  money,  in  case  another 
customer  should  be  before  him.  Newbold  Field  is 
certainly  one  of  the  most  distressing  pieces  of  ground 
that  I  ever  rode  over,  and  Faith  must  be,  as  he  has  the 
appearance  of  being,  a  most  superior  horse  to  have  crossed 
it  on  the  day  I  allude  to,  when  it  was  in  a  very  tender 
state,  and  very  highly  ridged. 

"  There  is  a  very  gentleman-like  young  man  hunting 


254        THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN 

with  us  here — indeed,  he  resides  Mdthin  the  limits  of  the 
hunt — who  has  introduced  a  somewhat  novel^style  of  seat  on 
his  horse,  which,  although  perhaps  he  may  carry  it  to  an 
extreme,  appears  to  succeed  with  him,  and  will,  no  doubt, 
induce  many  to  follow  his  example,  to  a  certain  extent. 
I  allude  to  the  increased  length  of  stirrup-leather  which 
this  man,  whose  name  is  Welch  Posten,  allows  himself, 
•extending  almost  beyond  that  used  by  the  military,  or  in 
the  manege.  It  is  likewise  worthy  of  notice,  that,  although 
his  height  is  nearly  six  feet,  he  rides  two  mares  neither 
of  which  are  fifteen  hands  high,  but  which  are  very 
difficult  to  beat  with  their  owner  on  their  backs.  I  am 
told  he  gave  400  guineas  for  them,  and  they  are  well 
worth  the  money,  being  very  accomplished  fencers,  and 
nearly  thorough-bred.  You  have  often  heard  me  say 
that  I  thought  both  you  and  myself  used  stirrup-leathers 
of  not  sufficient  length  ;  and  the  case  I  now  allude  to 
confirms  me  in  that  opinion,  so  much  so  that  I  have 
dropped  my  stirrups  at  least  three  holes.  I  am  convinced 
that  I  sit  easier  on  my  horse  by  having  my  weight  placed 
near  to  the  shoulder,  on  that  part,  indeed,  M'hich  is  the 
point  of  union  in  the  horse,  instead  of  near  to  the  loins, 
which  are  the  weakest  part  of  his  frame. 

''But  speaking  of  extraordinary  men  in  our  line,  I 
must  say  a  word  of  one  in  this  hunt,  whose  equal,  perhaps, 
is  nowhere  else  to  be  found.  His  name  is  Stibbs,  and 
60  inveterate  a  lover  of  the  chase  is  he,  that  he  is  not 
■contented  with  hunting  with  Mr.  Corbet's  foxhounds  four 
days  a  week,  which  is  the  number  of  their  hunting  days, 
with  a  bye  one  occasionally,  but  he  absolutely  keeps  a 
pack  of  harriers,  to  hunt  the  other  two.  The  climax, 
however,  is  yet  to  come.  On  being  informed,  one  Sunday 
morning,  that  a  fox  which  had  been  brought  to  him  over 
night,  had  escaped  from  the  place  in  which  it  was 
•confined,  he  ordered  horses  to  be  saddled  for  himself  and 
his  man,  and  letting  out  his  hounds,  laid  them  on  the 
scent  of  the  fugitive,  and  killed  him  after  a  sharp  burst ! 
This  very  extraordinary  man  never  misses  a  day  in  the 
season  ;  he  knows  hunting  well,  and  is  rapturously  fond 
of  it,  but,  being  shy  of  fences,  sees  very  little  of  a  run ; 
nevertheless,  by  an  intimate  knowledge  of  the  country, 
like  his  friend  Mr.  Corbet,  he  generally  apj>ears  shortly 
.after  the  chase  is  finished,  be  it  never  so  good, 

"  One  of  the  bright  features  in  this  hunt  is  a  ball  and 


THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN        255 

supper,  given  annually  to  the  ladies  and  gentlemen  of  the 
neighbourhood,  at  the  sole  expense  of  the  members  of  it. 
That  for^this  year  took  place  last  week,  and  certainly  was 
one  of  the  best  I  ever  witnessed  out  of  London.  How- 
ever, a  description  of  such  matters  is  not  much  in  my 
line,  neither  do  I  suppose  it  would  be  very  interesting  to 
you  ;  still,  as  I  know  you  like  a  neat  effusion  of  the  lyric 
muse,  and  especially  when  she  sings  of  the  chase,  I  will 
transcribe  a  song  that  was  made  for  the  occasion  by  the 
Kev.  T.  Willy,  and  sung  by  him  after  supper,  with  the 
very  best  effect : — 

'  The  triumphs  of  heroes  let  others  declare, 
Or  in  ecstasy  sing  of  the  charms  of  the  fair  ; 

Of  love,  or  of  war,  may  the  verse  freely  flow ! 
Let  the  glass  aid  the  song,  while  those  pleasures  I  trace 
Those  enlivening  joys  which  arise  from  the  chase. 

Tallyho  !  tallyho  ! — see  the  well-chosen 

Pack,  how  they  gallantly  go  ! 

A  southerly  wind,  and  light  clouds  in  the  sky, 
The  air  mild  and  fresh,  nerves  and  spirits  all  high, 

Tallyho  !  tallyho  !  to  the  cover  we  go  : 
Hark !  Reveller's  speaking — By  heavens  !  'tis  good, 
Get  forward,  and  cheer  them  well  out  of  the  wood. 

Tallyho  !  tallyho  ! — see  the  well-chosen 

Pack,  how  together  they  go  ! 

Erect  in  his  stirrups,  with  listening  eye, 
The  master  is  catching  at  Batchelor's  cry  ; 

Tallyho  !  tallyho  ! — all  seem  eager  to  go. 
Restrain  your  wild  ardour,  as  yet,  within  bounds, 
And  wait  to  ride  after,  not  over,  the  hounds. 

Tallyho  !  tallyho  ! — see  the  well-chosen 

Pack,  how  together  they  go ! 

With  eye  beaming  cunning,  and  light-tripping  pace. 
See  the  fox  steals  away — hear  the  pack  in  full  chase: 

Tallyho  !  tallyho  ! — how  together  they  go  ! 
Hold  hard,  for  a  moment,  and  give  them  fair  play  : 
You'll  all  want  your  top-speed,  if  they  once  get  away. 

Tallyho !  tallyho  ! — see  together  they  go. 

How  some,  fairly  mounted,  go  striding  along, 
While  others  hard  labour  with  bit,  steel,  and  thong: 

Tallyho  !  tallyho  ! — how  they  struggle  to  go  ! 
Hold  hard  !  is  the  word,  but  I  strongly  suspect, 
l^ot  the  hounds,  but  some  horses  are  brought  to  a  check. 

Tallyho  !  tallyho  ! — how  they  gallantly  go  ! 


256       THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN 

Yon  fence  seems  a  tickler — get  on  to  the  charge  ; 

See  the  ground,  appears  sound,  though  the  ditch  may  be  large  ; 

Tallyho  !  tallyho  !— get  forward,  sir,  go. 
One  tops  it,  one  baulks  it,  and,  craning,  turns  round, 
While  a  third  quits  his  seat  for  a  seat  on  the  ground. 

Tallyho  !  tallyho  ! — how  together  they  go  ! 

For  a  moment  a  sheep-foil  now  baffles  the  scent. 

See  them  stooping  and  questing  — each  tries  where  he  went; 

Tallyho  !  tallyho  ! — how  they  cautiously  go  ! 
Old  Trojan  has  hit  it— no  doubt  can  remain  ; 
Not  a  moment  is  lost — they're  together  again. 

Tallyho  !  tallyho  ! — how  they  gallantly  go  ! 

Now  mark,  in  the  valley,  how  motley  the  scene  ; 
Here  men  want  their  horses — here  horses  want  men  : 

Tallyho  !  tallj^ho  ! — very  few  seem  to  go  ! 
One  loses  a  shoe,  and  another  votes  lame  ; 
Who  is  that  in  the  brook  ? — Oh  !  ask  not  his  name. 

Tallyho  !  tallyho  !— how  together  they  go  ! 

Once  more,  wet  and  weary,  poor  Keynard  is  view'd  ; 
By  few,  save  the  pack,  any  longer  pursued  ; 

Tallyho  !  tallyho  ! — they  are  good  ones  that  go  ! 
Nor  pluck,  speed,  nor  cunning,  the  chase  can  prolong  ; 
Who-whoop  !  is  the  word,  and  who-whoop  to  my  song. 

Tallyho  !  tallyho  ! — may  the  Warwickshire 

Pack  ever  gallantly  go.' 

"  Now,  my  dear  Hargrave,  I  think  I  have  told  you 
nearly  all  that  can  interest  you  respecting  this  part  of 
Warwickshire,  which  I  strongly  recommend  you  to  visit 
next  season.  I  think  you  will  agree  with  me,  that  it  is 
one  which  cannot  fail  to  show  sport,  with  a  good  pack  of 
hounds,  which  those  that  now  hunt  it  really  are  ;  and 
it  is  not  very  difficult  to  ride  over.  Your  horses  are, 
no  doubt,  good  timber  and  brick  jumpers,  as  you  have 
lenty  of  that  work  in  Essex  ;  but,  when  you  come  into 

arwickshire,  you  must  expect  a  few  falls,  until  your 
horses  learn  to  extend  themselves  in  their  leaps  more  than 
what  is  required  in  Essex,  many  of  the  Warwickshire 
fences  being  composed  of  either  a  strong  blackthorn 
hedge,  or  a  tiight  of  rails,  with  a  wide  ditch  to  boot,  which, 
if  it  happen  to  be  on  the  landing  side,  acts  as  a  trap  to 
your  nag,  unless  he  be  prepared  for  it,  by  extending 
himself  in  his  leap.  There  are  not  many  double  fences  ; 
less,  I  think,  than  in  any  other  country  in  which  I  have 
hunted  ;  but  unless  a  horse  can  go  well  in  dirt,  he  has 


pie 
W 


THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN        257 

no  business  in  "Warwickshire,  for  some  part  of  it  is 
infernally  deep,  especially  on  the  breaking  up  of  a  frost. 
I  saw  every  horse  blown  to  a  standstill  in  twelve  minutes, 
the  other  day,  in  the  neighbourhood  of  Southon,  which  is 
the  deepest  part  of  any.  It  was  a  ridiculous  scene,  when 
about  a  dozen  of  us  came  to  a  low  gate,  which  none  of 
our  horses  had  the  power  to  leap.  Robert  Cannons  at  last 
crammed  his  horse  through  it,  and  so  released  us  from  our 
prison  ;  for  there  was  no  other  way  of  getting  out  of  the 
field,  from  the  immense  height  and  strength  of  the  fence. 
In  the  Meriden  country  your  horses  will  excel,  because  the 
fences  there  are,  for  the  most  part,  placed  on  a  bank,  and 
not  planted  on  the  ground,  as  in  the  Stratford.  I  am 
going  to  finish  the  season  in  the  Atherstone  country, 
from  whence  you  may  hear  from  me  again.  In  the 
meantime  believe  me,  dear  Hargrave,  truly  yours  to 
the  end, 

"Francis  Raby." 

No  small  degree  of  interest  was  excited  in  the  breast  of 
our  young  sportsman  on  his  arrival  in  the  Atherstone 
country,  by  reason  of  the  high  character  he  had  heard  of 
the  nobleman  who  then  hunted  it,  and  also  of  his  hunts- 
man, who  had  the  reputation  of  being  one  of  the  best  at 
that  time  of  his  class.  The  former  was  the  amiable  Lord 
Varney  ;  the  latter,  the  civil  and  unpresuming  Sam 
Lawton,  as  clever  a  huntsman  as  ever  hallooed  to  a  hound, 
and  equally  good  in  the  saddle.  The  hunt  was  dis- 
tinguished as  being  composed  of  a  select  number  of 
gentlemen,  of  high  character  in  their  calling,  and  every- 
thing in  Lord  Varney's  hunt  was  conducted  with  a  pro- 
priety and  respectability  that  left  nothing  to  be  wished 
for  by  the  members  of  it,  or  by  those  who  occasionally 
joined  it. 

The  Atherstone  country  is  soon  described.  On  the 
Staffordshire  side  it  is  woodland,  and  bad  for  scent ;  on 
those  of  Derbyshire  and  Leicestershire,  very  good  indeed. 
In  fact,  from  Burbage  Wood,  or  Tooley  Park,  or  Bosworth, 
a  run  may  be  seen  over  as  fine  a  country  as  even  a  Melton 
man  would  desire.  And  the  mention  of  a  Melton  man 
reminds  me  that  I  may  as  well  at  once  transcribe  the 
first  letter  from  Frank  Raby  to  his  friend  Hargrave, 
inasmuch  as,  amongst  other  matters,  it  has  reference  to 
the   doings   of  Melton  men,  in  conjunction  with  those 

17 


258        THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN 

of  some  of  the  conspicuous  characters  of  Lord  Varney's 
hunt. 

"Atherstoxe,   Feb.  2. 

"  Dear  Hargraye, — According  to  promise,  I  report 
progress  in  this  country,  as  it  is  my  intention  to  do  of 
others  which  I  may  visit,  to  the  end  that,  when  you  are 
able  to  break  loose  from  your  trammels  (but  mind  me, 
Hargrave,  I  commend  you  for  complying  with  the  wishes 
of  your  excellent  father,  and  confining  yourself  to  Essex, 
so  long  as  he  continues  to  express  them,  for  he  is  deserv- 
ing of  everything  at  your  hands),  you  may  also  visit  such 
as  I  recommend,  and  eschew  such  as  are  not  worthy  of 
your  notice. 

"  In  the  first  place,  you  will  be  greatly  pleased  with  the 
noble  master  of  the  pack.  He  has  all  those  mild  and 
amiable  features  in  his  character  and  deportment  which  dis- 
tinguish the  English  gentleman,  together  with  as  much  of 
the  consciousness  of  superiority  in  society  which,  in  courtesy, 
we  accede  to  the  English  nobleman.  He  is  also  as  much 
of  a  sportsman  as  it  is  necessary  that  a  master  of  foxhounds 
should  be  who  employs  an  experienced  huntsman;  but 
in  this  respect,  his  brother,  the  parson,  is  allowed  to  stand 
before  him.  As  for  his  huntsman,  I  am  delighted  with 
him,  considering  him  to  be  everything  that  a  huntsman 
should  be  ;  and  when  I  tell  you  that  1000  guineas  were 
offered,  the  other  day,  for  three  of  the  horses  which  he 
rides  with  the  hounds,  I  will  leave  you  to  guess  how  he 
is  mounted.  His  first  whipper-in,  also  (Harry  Jackson), 
is  a  very  clever  fellow,  and  by  the  appearance  of  the 
pack,  by  the  cover  side,  there  must  be  a  good  man  in 
the  kennel. 

"  There  are  several  very  superior  horsemen,  as  well  as 
sportsmen,  members  of  this  hunt — both  heavy  and  light 
weights.  Among  the  former,  indeed,  there  is  one — namely, 
Mr.  Boltaby — who  treads  hard  on  the  heels  of  the  extra- 
ordinary performer  I  spoke  of  with  the  Warwickshire 
hounds,  inasmuch  as  he  is  always  in  a  good  place  in  a 
run,  although  not  nearly  so  well  mounted  as  the  hero  of 
the  '  Warwickshire  lads.'  Among  the  latter  is  what  may 
be  called  a  rara  avis  in  the  land.  He  is  a  tanner  of  hides 
by  trade,  and  resides  in  the  town  of  Nuneaton ;  and 
neither  himself  nor  his  mare — also  a  rara  avis  of  her  kind 
— have  pretensions  nearly  equal  to  their  merits.  In  the 
first  place,  he  is  a  very  small  person  ;  and,  in  the  next, 


THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN        259 

his  mare  is  of  equally  diminutive  size  ;  nevertheless,  there 
not  only  is  not  a  man  in  the  Atherstone  Hunt  that  can 
beat  the  tanner  on  his  good  little  mare,  but,  strange  to 
say,  he  has  gone  out  two  or  three  times  with  the  Quorn 
hounds,  in  their  strongest  country,  and  been  amongst  the 
foremost  men  in  the  held.  In  fact,  so  annoyed  was  one 
celebrated  character  in  that  hunt,  at  the  presence  of  the 
tanner  and  his  mare,  following  him  as  though  they  had 
been  his  shadow,  and  over  ever}^  description  of  fence, 
that  he  was  at  length  heard  to  exclaim,  '  Xow  I'll  break 

his    d d    neck.'      But   the   neck   of    the   tanner   was 

spared,  perhaps,  by  a  fortunate  occurrence.  The  cele- 
brated character  I  allude  to,  mounted,  perhajjs,  on  one 
of  the  best  horses  in  Leicestershire,  rode  at  some  timber, 
a  foot  or  more  higher  than  the  little  mare's  back  ;  but, 
breaking  the  topmost  rail,  the  tanner  and  his  mare 
followed  him.  But  his  history  does  not  rest  here.  Being 
invariably  clad  in  a  light  green  jacket,  he  has  obtained 
the  sobriquet  of  the  Paroqueet,  to  which  his  flying 
propensities — for  no  man  goes  faster  after  hounds,  or 
gets  over  higher  fences — have  sufficiently  established  his 
title.  At  all  events,  he  is  a  gallant  little  fellow,  and 
his  good  little  mare  may  well  be  said  to  be  nearly  worth 
her  weight  in  gold. 

"  To  describe  a  run  with  hounds  is  so  difficult  a  task — 
at  least,  when  justice  is  to  be  done  to  the  subject — that  I 
am  almost  afraid  to  attempt  it ;  nevertheless,  I  cannot 
resist  giving  you  a  short  account  of  one  we  had  last  week, 
attended  with  some  peculiarly  interesting  circumstances. 
In  the  first  place,  1  must  tell  you,  that  the  imiform 
colour — if  I  may  so  express  myself — of  the  Atherstone 
Hunt  is  orange,  whereas,  you  know,  that  the  Quorn  men 
all  ride  in  scarlet.  Next,  it  being  kno^Ti  that  a  number 
of  the  Quornites,  as  Dick  Knight  called  them,  had 
signified  their  intention  of  being  out  with  Lord  Vernon's 
hounds,  on  Tuesday  last,  at  Bosworth,  a  report  had  gone 
abroad,  that,  should  a  good  fox  be  found,  there  would 
be  a  sort  of  contest  for  the  brush — more  properly  speak- 
ing, for  superiority  of  horsemanship  and  nerve — between 
the  men  in  orange  and  the  men  in  red.  This  actually 
took  place ;  but,  my  good  fellow,  Hargrave,  how  can  I 
find  words  that  will  convey  to  you  even  a  faint  descrip- 
tion of  the  interesting  scene  ?  An  epicure  cannot  judge 
of  a  dish  of  meat  by  the  palate  of  another  ;  a  musician 


26o        THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN 

must  hear  the  concert  he  presumes  to  criticise ;  in  fact, 
we  can  do  nothing  of  this  sort  hy  proxy.  It  is  not  that 
tlie  subject  is  poor,  but  that  my  language  is  incompetent. 
However,  let  me  try  what  I  can  do. 

"  The  fixture  was  Bosworth — on  the  very  ground  on 
which  Richard  III.  lost  both  his  crown  and  his  life  ;  and 
the  field  was  unusually  large  for  this  part  of  the  world, 
consisting  of  at  least  150  horsemen,  amongst  whom  were 
about  a  score  of  the  Quornites  on  their  very  best  nags. 
They  were  easily  distinguished,  first,  by  the  colour  of 
their  coat — for,  until  I  saw  them  together,  I  was  not 
aware  of  the  strong  contrast  between  the  orange  and  the 
red  ;  and  next  by  the  superior  form  and  condition  of 
their  horses  over  the  generality  of  those  of  our  party. 
Amongst  them,  I  particularly  noticed  Sir  Henry  Peyton's 
Watchmaker,  a  superb  horse,  the  same  that  you  see  in 
the  '  Sporting  Magazine,'  where  he  is  represented  clearing 
a  stile  and  brook  with  Sir  Henry,  and  setting  the  whole 
field.  Then  there  was  Mr.  Lindon  on  his  famous  horse 
The  Clipper,  and  the  celebrated  Tom  Smith  on  Jack-o'- 
Lantern,  by  Meteor,  out  of  a  sister  to  Tickletoby,  said  to 
be  the  two  best  horses  in  Leicestershire.  And  amongst 
them  were  Sir  Stephen  Glynne  and  Lord  Foley,  who  are 
domiciled  at  Mountsorrel,  in  the  same  house  with  Sir 
Henry  Peyton ;  and  I  noticed  George  Germaine,  Parson 
Bennett,  Forester,  cum  multis  aliis  unknown  to  you,  but 
all  first-raters.  Then  there  was  John  Raven,  Meynell's 
old  huntsman,  but  now  Lord  Sefton's,  who  came  to  witness 
the  events  of  this  day.  And  this  reminds  me  that  Lord 
Sefton  himself  was  in  the  field  with  two  of  the  finest 
horses  I  ever  saw  in  my  life.  He  calls  one  Plato,  and 
the  other  Rowland,  and  they  cost  him  no  less  than  1800 
guineas.  Then  their  condition  was  splendid.  You  are 
aware  that  it:was  in  consequence  of  my  conversation  with 
his  groom,  that  I  kept  my  horses  last  summer  in  the  house, 
and  have  determined  upon  never  again  turning  them  to 
grass. 

"As  you  may  suppose,  we  made  the  best  turn-out 
in  our  power,  on  this  day,  from  this  side  the  coun- 
try, and  a  most  respectable  appearance  we  cut.  Sam 
Lawley  had  a  picked  pack  for  the  occasion,  and  was 
mounted  on  his  best  horse,  John -o'- Gaunt,  one  of  the 
three  for  which  1000  guineas  were  oflfered.  We  all, 
indeed,  skimmed  the  cream  of  our  studs,  myself  upon 


THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN        261 

Topthorn,  whose  condition  was  much  admired.     But  now 
to  iDusiness  : — 

"  We  found  in  the  first  cover  we  drew,  and  the  fox 
went  boldlv  away  at  once  ;  and,  by  the  quickness  of  Sam 
Lawley  and  his  whips,  the  hounds  came  out  in  a  body. 
*  But  they  were  pressed  upon,  and  ridden  over,'  methinks 
I  hear  you  say.  Not  a  bit  of  it.  They  had  sportsmen 
to  deal  with,  who  gave  them  fair  play.  But  the  esprit  de 
corps,  you  will  assure  me,  or,  in  other  words,  jealousy, 
must  have  operated  to  their  disadvantage.  This  I  also 
disclaim  on  the  part  of  the  whole  field  ;  at  least,  I  saw 
nothing  like  it;  but  every  man's  object  was  merely  to 
live  with  the  hounds,  which  was  as  much  indeed  as  they 
could  do,  for  the  pace  was  desperately  quick.  And  the 
hounds  got  an  advantage  in  the  first  five  minutes,  and  a 
great  one  it  was.  A  brook — the  very  brook,  I  believe,  in 
which  the  mangled  remains  of  Eichard  were  thrown,  and 
which,  even  to  this  day,  the  country  people  believe  to  be 
tinged  with  blood — and  a  small  ozier-bed  very  soon  pre- 
sented themselves,  and  somewhat  checked  our  career,  as 
the  horses  did  not  like  them — perhaps  they  smelled  the 
blood,  though  I  should  rather  say,  the  bog.  However, 
all  in  the  same  line  with  myself  got  well  over,  Peyton, 
on  Watchmaker,  being  the  first.  The  pace  now  became 
awful,  as  we  had  ground  to  make  up,  and  those  near  the 
hounds  could,  without  any  difficulty,  be  distinguished. 
There  were  about  an  equal  number  of  orange  and  red, 
neither  appearing  to  me  to  prevail.  I  am  speaking  of 
the  first  twelve  minutes.  It  was  now  that  a  trifling 
superiority  was  exhibited  amongst  those  who,  with 
myself,  were  on  the  left  of  the  hounds.  A  large  timber 
fence  presented  itself,  high  and  stiff,  and  on  the  other 
side  was  a  green  lane,  the  sides  of  which  were  covered 
with  gorse,  so  as  to  render  it  impossible  to  see  what  kind 
of  ground  the  said  gorse  concealed.  It  was,  however, 
evident  that  it  was  of  a  very  uneven  description,  together 
with  the  certainty  that,  from  what  could  be  seen  in  the 
middle  of  it,  the  entire  lane  was  cut  up  by  deep  waggon 
ruts,  and,  moreover,  the  drop  into  it  was  considerable. 
Eleven  of  us,  then  in  front,  came  up  to  this  fence,  but 
not  one  of  us  liked  it.  The  twelfth  was  Lord  Foley,  on 
a  thorough-bred  horse,  which  had  been  one  of  the  best 
plate  horses  of  his  day,  and,  without  pulling  him  out  of 
his  stroke,  at  it  he  went ;  and  although  he  floundered 


262        THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN 

a  little  on  landing,  lie  kept  his  legs,  and  went  on.  Here 
tlie  red  liad  it,  for  Lord  Foley  got  the  lead,  although 
there  were  a  few  on  the  right  who  were  nearly  on  as  good 
terms  as  his  Lordship  was.  It  was  gallantly  done,  how- 
ever, and  due  praise  was  given  both  to  the  rider  and  his 
horse.  We  all  got  over  this  fence,  but  could  not  catch 
Foley  till  we  came  to  the  first  check.  And  how  were 
matters  here  ?  Why,  strange  to  say,  there  were  seventeen 
of  one  hunt,  and  fifteen  of  the  other,  well  up,  but  the 
majority  were  in  orange.  '  How  is  this  ? '  inc^uired  one, 
who  was  becoming  somewhat  sanguine  on  the  occasion. 
'  They  knew  of  a  better  place  than  we  did,  over  the  brook 
and  across  the  ozier-bed,'  replied  one  of  the  coideurderose, 
'but  they  ride  devilish  well.' 

"  The  science  of  Sam  Lawley,  whose  eye  had  been  on 
his  hounds  when  they  checked,  soon  put  matters  to  rights, 
and  before  many  of  the  stragglers  had  come  up,  we  were 
all  at  work  again.  But  to  make  short  of  my  story,  as  far 
as  the  run  is  concerned.  Our  fox  led  us  over  a  beautiful 
country  ;  and,  within  two  fields  of  Aylestone  gorse,  on  the 
other  side  the  road  leading  from  Leicester  to  Lutterworth, 
we  ran  into  him  in  the  middle  of  a  large  field — distance 
about  twelve  miles  as  the  crow  flies.  '  And  who  saw  the 
finish  1 '  I  think  I  hear  you  eagerly  exclaim.  Not  many, 
for  the  pace  had  been  severe  from  first  to  last ;  and  the 
fox  went  so  straight,  that  few  chances  were  given  to 
those  who  looked  out  for  a  nick.  But  the  colours  of 
the  coats  I  You  will  be  equally  curious  on  this  point. 
I  will  soon  satisfy  your  curiosity.  There  were  eleven 
Quornites  and  eight  Yernonites  well  with  them  at  the 
end,  and  about  an  equal  number  of  each — say  a  dozen 
or  fifteen — in  not  a  bad  place.  Fine  horsemanship  was 
displayed  on  each  side ;  and  it  struck  me  that  the 
Quornites  had  the  best  of  it  towards  the  finish,  by  the 
superiority  of  their  horses,  and  the  condition  of  them,  for, 
until  the  last  three  miles,  the  orange  and  red  appeared 
to  me,  and  to  others,  to  be,  as  nearly  as  we  could  guess, 
equal. 

"  I  only  regret  that  you  did  not  see  the  run,  which  was 
a  splendid  one  from  first  to  last,  and  I  strongly  re- 
commend you  to  the  Atherstone  country.  And  I  also 
recommend  you  to  see  another  pack  kept  in  this  part  of 
the  country,  more  for  the  sake  of  the  honour  of  them, 
than  for  their  performances  in  the  field.     I  allude  to  Mr. 


THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN        263 

Adderley,  who  is  one  of  the  breed  of  English  country 
gentlemen  of  the  old  school — most  polite,  most  unaflacted, 
most  modest,  most  humane,  perhaps,  of  his  order  ;  but 
the  most  unlikely  person  to  be  at  the  head  of  a  pack  of 
foxhounds  that  England  or  any  other  country  can  produce. 
By-the-bye,  I  will  tell  you  no  bad  anecdote  respecting 
him,  which  I  had  from  his  own  lips.  Being  in  want  of  a 
huntsman,  one  of  the  most  celebrated  of  the  present  day 
happening  at  that  time  to  be  out  of  place,  offered  his 
services,  and  was  engaged.  He  arrived  on  a  Saturday 
night  on  his  hack,  with  a  small  pair  of  saddle-bags  under 
him,  leaving  his  luggage  to  follow  him  per  coach.  The 
following  morning  he  was  desired  to  feed  his  hounds  at 
nine  o'clock,  as  Mr.  Adderley  rec[uired  that  all  his  servants 
should  attend  both  morning  and  evening  church.  The 
huntsman  obe3'ed  orders  to  the  very  letter,  and  behaved 
remarkably  well  in  church.  At  nine  o'clock  at  night  the 
bell  rang  for  family  prayers,  at  which  Mr.  Shaw  (for 
such  was  his  name)  conducted  himself  with  becoming 
reverence.  But  when  Monday  morning  arrived,  where 
was  Mr.  Shaw  ?  He  was  not  to  be  found,  having  put 
his  saddle-bags  under  him,  on  his  hack,  and  trotted 
quietly  off — leaving  word  that  'he  thought  he  was 
hired  to  hunt  a  pack  of  foxhounds,  but  finding  that 
his  chief  occupation  was  to  _2Jrai/,  he  begged  to  resign  his 
situation  to  one  who  was  better  qualified  for  the  office 
than  himself.' 

"  I  must  now  conclude.  These  long  letters  will  make 
you  imagine,  with  Mr.  Shaw,  that  my  chief  occupation  is 
not  hunting,  but  writing  ;  I,  therefore,  bid  you,  for  the 
present,  adieu. 

"Francis  Eabt." 


CHAPTER   XV 

The  death  of  Mr.  Beaumont  Raby,  and  the  installation  of  the  hero 
into  a  regular  sporting  establishment,  the  details  of  which  are 
given  at  some  length. 

OX  the  day  following  the  date  of  this  epistle,  our  hero 
received  a  letter  from  his  father,  informing  him  of  the 
dangerous  situation  in  which  his  uncle's  life  was  placed^ 


264        THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN 

by  an  accident  that  occurred  to  him  as  he  was  stepping 
into  his  carriage  to  go  to  the  opera.  The  extent  of  it  was 
a  mere  simple  fracture  of  the  left  leg,  which,  had  it 
happened  to  his  brother,  instead  of  himself,  would  have 
shortly  yielded  to  common  medical  treatment ;  but  it  was 
not  so  with  the  indolent  and  highly  fed  Mr.  Beaumont 
Raby.  Unpleasant  symptoms  appeared  about  the  fifth 
day  ;  and  by  the  time  his  nephew  arrived  in  London, 
having  been  sent  for  by  express,  at  the  earnest  desire 
of  the  suflerer,  he  was  considered  to  be  beyond  the 
reach  of  all  human  aid.  Moreover,  he  was  himself 
aware  that  his  hour  was  near  at  hand  ;  but,  having  a 
perfect  command  over  his  intellectual  faculties,  he  thus 
addressed  his  nephew,  at  the  second  interview  between 
them  : — 

"  Now,  my  dear  Frank,  having  recovered  myself  from 
the  emotion  which  your  presence  occasioned,  '  Richard  is 
himself  again.'  Draw  a  chair  towards  my  bed,  and  not 
only  hear,  but  mark  what  I  am  about  to  say.  But  why  do 
you  weep,  my  dear  boy  %  If  tears  were  becoming,  they 
should  fall  from  me,  inasmuch  as  I  have  reason  to  believe 
I  am  about  to  quit  a  world  with  which  I  have  no  small 
cause  to  be  satisfied,  and  I  should  be  a  hypocrite  to  say 
I  shall  not  leave  it  with  regret.  But  shall  we  receive 
good,  and  shall  we  not  receive  evil  ?  Vain  hope  !  and 
such  I  now  find  it.  I  have,  however,  one  consolation  in 
this  evil  hour,  and  that  is — in  the  station  I  now  hold  in 
society  being  about  to  be  filled  by  yourself.  You  will 
succeed  to  all  I  possess,  beyond  a  few  legacies  to  friends, 
and  annuities  for  their  lives  to  old  and  faithful  servants  ; 
and  I  pray  to  God,  that  you  may  make  a  better  use  of  the 
means  at  your  command  than  I  myself  have  done.  But 
he  who  tastes  nothing  but  the  sweet  poison  of  prosperity, 
which  hitherto  has  been  my  case " 

Here  the  feelings  of  the  sufi'erer  overcame  him,  and, 
concealing  his  brow  with  his  hand,  he  remained  silent  for 
a  short  time  ;  but  having  recovered  his  self-possession  thus 
continued  to  speak  : — 

"  I  am  weak,  my  dear  Frank,  as  you  must  perceive  ;  but 
let  us  look  on  a  brighter  picture.  In  addition  to  what  you 
will  receive  from  me,  you  may  one  day  inherit  the  large 
possessions  of  your  father.  Endeavour,  then,  to  tread  in 
his  steps,  rather  than  in  mine.  The  reigning  error  of  my 
life  has  been  the  mistaking  the  love  for  the  practice  of 


THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN        265 

virtue,  and  being  the  friend  of  goodness,  rather  than  a 
good  man.  In  your  father,  the  union  is  accomplished  ; 
and  whilst  I  have  been  amusing  myself  with  a  phantom  of 
happiness  which  has  been  always  dancing  before  my  eyes 
— turning  them,  alas  !  from  the  light  of  Eeason  which 
would  have  discovered  the  illusion,  and  shown  me  what, 
perhaps,  I  never  wished  to  see,  my  own  real  case — he  has 
possessed  himself  of  the  reality,  by  fulfilling  every  duty 
incumbent  upon  an  English  gentleman,  and,  I  may  safely 
add,  the  Christian.  Compared  with  his  then,  mine  has 
been  a  solitary,  a  barren,  and  a  cheerless  existence,  and 
my  name  will  be  forgotten  ere  my  remains  are  cold.  As 
the  shadow  waits  on  the  substance,  Frank,  even  so  true 
honour  follows  virtuous  actions,  and  not  merely  the 
profession  of  them." 

The  natural  strength  of  Mr.  Beaumont  Kaby's  consti- 
tution had,  to  a  certain  extent,  rallied  after  passing  a 
tranquil  night,  in  which  sleep — that  vis  medicatrix  naturce 
— had  come  to  his  relief  ;  and  it  was  not  until  the  eighth 
day  after  this  interesting  conversation  took  place  between 
himself  and  his  nephew,  that  death  came  to  his  relief — on 
the  very  day,  indeed,  on  which  he  had  arrived  at  his  fifty- 
third  year  !  On  his  will  being  oj)ened,  matters  stood 
thus  : — He  bequeathed  £1000  to  Mr.  Egerton,  "as  a  mark 
of  gratitude  for  his  having  instilled  those  notions  of  pro- 
priety into  his  nephew  that  would  not  fail  to  benefit 
him  through  life  ;  "  £100  to  one  of  his  oldes  friends  and 
the  same  to  his  brother,  to  purchase  mourning  rings  ; 
annuities  of  fifty  pounds  to  three  of  his  own  servants, 
"who  had  served  him  faithfully  in  their  respective 
situations ; "  and  the  rest  of  his  fortune,  without  any 
stipulation  whatever,  "to  his  dearly  beloved  nephew, 
Francis  Raby,  trusting  that  he  would  make  a  better  use 
of  it  than  he  himself  had  done.  It  consisted  of  £137,000, 
in  the  three  per  cent,  consols,  together  with  a  small  estate 
in  Hertfordshire,  of  about  150  acres,  on  which  it  had 
been  his  intention  to  have  built  a  villa  for  his  summer 
residence,  but  the  natural  indolence  of  his  character, 
together  with  his  love  of  Brighton  at  that  period  of  the 
year,  had  prevented  his  putting  it  into  efi'ect.  And 
there  was  a  short  codicil  to  the  will,  bequeathing  fifty 
pounds  a  year  to  the  poor  of  the  parish  of  Amstead,  for 
ever.  His  remains  were  conveyed  to  the  family  vault  at 
Amstead  ;  and  in  the  course  of  a  few  months,  a  plain  but 


266        THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN 

neat  monument  was  erected  to  his  memory,  having  the 
following  simple  inscription,  from  the  pen  of  his  afflicted 
brother  : — 

SacreD  to  tbe  /iRemori? 

OF 

BEAUMONT  EABY,  ESQUIRE, 

YOUNGEST  SON   OF  ANDREW  AND   THE  HONOURABLE  MARTHA 

ALICIA   RABY,    OF  AMSTEAD  ABBEY,    IN    THE   COUNTY   OF 

LINCOLN  ;  WHO  DEPARTED  THIS   LIFE   ON   THE   THIRD  OF  FEBRUARY, 

1803,    IN   THE  FIFTY-THIRD   YEAR  OF  HIS  AGE. 

ALL  WHO  KNEW  HIM  CAN  ATTEST  THAT  HE  WAS  A   MAN  OF  A 
SINGULARLY    MILD    AND    AMIABLE    DISPOSITION — EVERY    THOUGHT 
AND  ACT   OF   HIS    LIFE   PROCEEDING    FROM   THE     OVERFLOWING 
OF    A     WARM     AND     TENDER      HEART.       POSSESSING    SOUND 
SENSE  AND   PRUDENCE,    JOINED  WITH   MUCH   URBANITY 
OF     MANNERS,    AS     WELL   AS   STRICT    INTEGRITY    OF 
CONDUCT,    HE   MIGHT   HAVE   QUALIFIED   HIMSELF 
FOR  THE  HIGHEST    OFFICES  OF   SOCIETY: 
BUT  HIS   ATTACHMENT    TO    LITERARY    PURSUITS,    COUPLED  WITH   A 
DESIRE   FOR   RETIREMENT   AND  EASE,    WHICH   HE   WANTED 
RESOLUTION  TO   COMBAT,    CONFINED  HIM   TO   THE 
STATION  HE   HELD— THAT  OF  AN  ACCOM- 
PLISHED  GENTLEMAN. 

THIS     SIMPLE    MONUMENT,    ACCORDING    WITH    THE    UNPRETENDING 

CHARACTER   OF   THE   DECEASED,    IS    HERE    PLACED    BY   HIS 

AFFECTIONATE  BROTHER,    ANDREW   RABY,  AS   THE  LAST 

TRIBUTE   OF     HIS    REGARD    AND    LOVE    FOR   ONE   TO 

WHOM  HE  WAS  MOST  CLOSELY  UNITED,  NOT  ONLY 

BY  BLOOD,   BUT  BY  AFFECTION. 

As  may  be  supposed,  the  situation  and  views  of  our 
young  sportsman  were  materially  changed  by  this  accession 
of  wealth — for  such  it  may  be  called,  when  devoted  to  the 
purposes  of  merely  one  individual.  The  following  three 
years,  then,  find  him,  first,  the  tenant  of  a  large  mansion 
and  domain  in  one  of  the  midland  counties  ;  secondly, 
with  an  increased  stud,  and  not  only  of  hunters,  but 
coach-horses ;  thirdly,  a  member  of  Bibury  and  Kingscote 
Racing  Clubs,  and  of  the  B.D.C.,  or  Benson  Dri\dng 
Club  ;  fourthly,  with  a  house  and  fourteen-stalled  stable 
at  Melton  Mowbray  ;  and,  fifthly,  a  member  of  the  House 
of  Commons.  Let  us  look,  then,  at  his  proceedings  in 
these  several  stations,  of  no  small  importance  in  our 
eyes. 


THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN        267 

As  may  be  imagined,  the  mansion  he  had  fixed  upon 
was  selected  with  an  eye  to  the  amusements  to  which  he 
was  devoted,  and  to  as  much  enjoyment  of  them  as  could 
be  procured  for  a  certain  given  sum.  Hunting  is  here 
not  taken  into  the  account,  our  hero  having  satisfied 
himself  that  there  is  only  one  part  of  England  in  which 
the  chase  could  be  enjoyed  to  perfection,  and  in  that  he 
did  not  wish  to  reside  all  the  year,  for  more  reasons  than 
one.  A  great  object  with  him  was  good  roads,  which 
Leicestershire  at  this  period  was  deficient  in.  Another, 
was  good  partridge  and  pheasant-shooting,  to  neither  of 
which  were  the  rich  pastures  of  the  queen  of  all  hunting 
countries  accounted  favourable,  from  the  general  absence 
of  corn-fields.  Our  young  sportsman  then  set  himself  down 
with  a  clear  £4700  a  year  at  his  command,  in  a  fine  old 
mansion,  whose  grounds  opened  into  the  great  Holyhead 
road,  which,  even  at  that  period,  was  one  of  the  best  in 
England,  and,  from  the  numerous  coaches  running  ujDon 
it,  the  most  interesting  and  amusing  to  a  person  who,  like 
our  hero,  is  fond  of  the  humours  and  proceedings  of  what 
is  called,  "  the  road  ; "  in  fact,  nothing  could  be  more  to 
his  mind,  during  the  lifetime  of  his  father,  than  the  place 
we  have  now  spoken  of.  As  has  already  been  stated,  the 
gates  of  the  park  opened  on  an  excellent  road  ;  the  manor 
sufficiently  abounded  with  game.  Foxhounds  and  harriers 
were  kept  in  the  neighbourhood.  There  was  good  coursing- 
ground  in  the  open  fields,  belonging  to  the  proj^rietor  of 
the  estate  ;  and  a  river  ran  through  the  domain,  affording 
good  trolling  for  pike,  at  whicli  Frank  Eaby  had  become 
an  adept  by  the  instructions  of  Jack  Perren,  who,  by  the 
permission  of  Mr.  Eaby,  was  now  become  his  keeper.  But 
the  CKjremens  of  Farndon  Hall  are  not  yet  all  told.  One 
of  the  best  female  cooks  that  London  could  furnish  was 
put  into  his  kitchen,  and  a  good  stock  of  the  choicest 
wines  into  his  cellars.  That  he  had  a  choice  set  of 
customers  for  the  produce  of  each  of  these  essentials  to 
true  epicurean  enjoyment,  it  is  scarcely  necessary  to  make 
apparent. 

It  having  been  on  the  first  of  May  following  the  decease 
of  his  uncle,  that  our  hero  took  possession  of  Farndon  Hall, 
some  account  of  his  proceedings  there  may  be  looked  for. 
We  will  begin  with  him  in  his  stable-yard,  our  fancy 
directing  us  thither,  in  accordance  with  our  own  taste. 
Of  his  hunters,  not  much  can  be  said.     Unprovided  with 


268        THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN 

accommodations  for  summering  them  agreeably  to  the  j^lan 
he  had  adopted  in  the  preceding  spring,  and  which  he 
found  to  answer  so  well,  they  were  in  their  old  quarters  at 
Amstead,  under  the  care  of  his  head  groom,  who  had 
nearly  convinced  the  Scotch  steward  that  the  expenses  of 
the  preceding  summer  had  not  been  thrown  away  upon 
them,  by  the  superior  condition  of  the  stud,  and  the  way 
in  which  they  had  stood  their  work,  without  disease  of 
any  kind  having  attacked  them.  Let  us,  then,  take  a  peep 
into  the  coach-stables. 

The  space  of  a  few  months,  even  with  the  aid  of  both 
judgment  and  experience,  is  far  too  little  for  the  selection 
of  such  a  stable  of  coach-horses  as  Frank  Eab}^  had  got 
together,  consisting  of  seven  greys — for,  like  Camillus  ^  of 
old,  that  was  his  favourite  colour — one  black,  and  two 
chestnut  piebalds,  which  gave  him  two  teams,  and  two 
horses  to  spare,  called,  on  the  road,  "rest  horses." 
Indeed,  no  man  can  depend  on  having  one  team  out  of 
four,  or  two  out  of  eight  horses ;  and  on  these  matters  our 
hero  had  been  well  tutored  by  Sir  John  Inkleton.  Sir 
John,  indeed,  had  in  part  assisted  him  in  the  purchase  of 
those  nags,  as  had  also  a  celebrated  London  dragsman,  who 
selected  some  of  them  out  of  his  employer's  yard,  money 
having  tempted  him  to  part  with  them.  And,  in  truth, 
there  is  no  much  better  method  for  gentlemen  to  adopt, 
in  purchasing  horses  for  their  own  driving,  than  to  select 
them  from  regular  road  work,  inasmuch  as,  in  the  first 
place,  their  character  can  be  tried  for  goodness  ;  and  in 
the  next,  they  are  thoroughly  broken-in  to  face  all  kinds 
of  objects  they  may  meet — the  want  of  which  confidence, 
in  pleasure  horses,  is  the  cause  of  half  the  accidents  which 
occur.  This  being  a  period  when  horse-flesh  was  at  a 
premium,  the  above  ten  horses  were  considered  not  badly 
bought  at  £900,  especially  so  as  there  were  three  fancy- 
coloured  ones  in  the  lot ;  but  had  not  four  of  them  been, 
to  a  slight  degree,  collar-marked,  a  larger  sura  would  have 
been  required.  Frank  Raby,  however,  had  remembered 
the  good  advice  his  friend  Sir  John  had  given  him,  in 
very  young  days  ;  and  in  this,  as  well  as  in  most  of  the 
future  transactions  of  life,  he  looked  to  the  main  chance, 

1  History  informs  us,  that  Camillus  gave  great  offence  to  the 
Romans,  by  being  carried  through  Rome  in  his  chariot,  drawn  by 
foxir  grey  horses,  no  general,  either  before  or  since,  having  done  the 
same  ;  grey  horses  were  then  held  sacred. 


THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN        269 

and  endeavoured  to  get  what  is  called — "  the  penny's- 
worth  for  his  penny."  It  would  be  well  if  all  persons, 
situated  as  he  was  situated — with  the  means  of  procuring 
all  reasonable  pleasures — would  observe  the  like  rule. 

But  to  return  to  the  coach-stables  (as  those  in  which 
coach-horses  are  kept  are  called,  to  distinguish  them  from 
those  used  by  hunters,  the  establishments  being  invariably 
kept  apart  in  all  well-conducted  arrangements) :  I  can  do 
nothing  in  illustration  of  them,  if  I  may  be  allowed  so 
to  express  myself,  without  the  assistance  of  some  friends. 
We  will,  therefore,  announce  to  our  readers  the  arrival  of 
the  following  conspicuous  characters,  on  a  week's  visit 
to  our  hero,  who  had  made  the  most  ample  preparation 
for  their  reception ;  viz.,  Lord  Edmonston ;  Sir  John 
Inkleton  ;  Mr.  Somerby  ;  Mr.  Goodall ;  Mr.  Houghton  ; 
friend  Hargrave  ;  and  Jack  Webber  ;  and  no  sooner  had 
they  all  assembled,  and  partaken  of  some  refreshment  after 
their  journey,  than  they  walked  into  the  stable-yard, 
where  the  following  conversation  ensued  : — ■ 

Sir  John.  "  Ah  !  there  is  your  drag,  and  it  appears  to 
be  quite  the  thing,  or  '  all-right,'  as  we  say  on  the  road.  I 
told  you  Wright  and  Powell  would  turn  you  out  a  good 
one.     What  do  you  think  of  it,  Jack,  eh  ? " 

Now,  before  we  give  the  answer,  we  must  have  a  word 
or  two  about  "  Jack."  In  consequence  of  his  father  having 
grumbled  rather  more  than  he  thought  was  necessary, 
at  having  three  times  paid  his  debts — amounting,  in 
all,  to  upwards  of  £72,000 — the  said  Mr.  John  Webber 
quitted  the  paternal  roof,  and  went  regularly  to  work  on 
the  Brighton  road  for  upwards  of  two  years.  A  better 
coachman,  perhaps,  seldom  mounted  a  coach-box  ;  a  more 
popular  character,  with  all  descriptions  of  persons,  never  ; 
but  he  quitted  it  at  the  earnest  request  of  his  family,  and 
was  restored  to  society  with  no  further  blemish  on  his 
character  than  having  performed  the  office  of  a  menial 
to  those  vastly  below  him  in  the  world.  But  Jack  had 
always  this  answer  in  his  mouth,  to  anyone  who  reminded 
him  of  this  : — • 

* '  Honour  and  shame  from  no  condition  rise  ; 
Act  well  your  part — there  all  the  honour  lies :  " — 

concluding,  in  the  more  humble  language  of  prose,  with 
declaring  that  he  believed  he  could  say  what  no  other  road 
coachman  in  England  could  say  ;  namely,  that  he  not  only 


270       THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN 

never  upset  his  coach,  but  that  he  put  every  shilling  he 
received  on  the  hill.  \Ye  will  now  give  his  answer,  apologiz- 
ing for  this  interlude  : 

Jack  Webber.  "  I  see  very  little  to  find  fault  with.  The 
box  appears  to  sail  well  over  your  wheelers,  so  as  to  put 
you  near  enough  to  your  leaders  to  have  them  well  in 
your  hand,  and  to  give  them  a  taste  of  the  whip  when 
they  want  it ;  and  the  axletrees  and  boxes  seem  strong 
and  good.  Perha23s  two  inches  less  length  of  perch  would 
have  made  her  follow  better,  but  I  daresay  you  have 
plenty  of  strength  in  your  harness,  and  she  is  safer  on  her 
legs  as  she  is.  The  foot-board  is  capital ;  there  is  nothing 
like  a  roomy  foot-board,  not  slanting  too  much,  to  give  a 
man  a  good  firm  seat  on  his  box,  and  full  command  of  his 
team.  It  is  disgusting  to  see  a  man  sitting  on  a  coach- 
box with  his  knees  bent  as  if  he  were  sitting  on  a  low 
stool." 

Sir  John.  "  I  quite  agree  with  you.  Jack.  The  drag 
looks  like  business,  and,  if  I  mistake  not,  belongs  to  a 
very  business-like  fellow,  for  I  think  that  our  friend 
Eaby  will  make  a  right  good  coachman  in  time." 

Jack  Webber.  "  How  can  he  fail  in  being  so,  when  one 
Sir  John  Inkleton  was  his  tutor  ? " 

Sir  John.  "  Thanks  for  the  compliment.  Jack  ;  now  let 
us  look  at  the  horses."  On  entering  the  stable  in  which 
the  ten  horses  before  mentioned  stood,  all  as  clean  as  they 
could  be  made  by  the  aid  of  four  stout  helpers,  at  the 
expense  of  at  least  five  shillings'-worth  of  soap,  "  Upon 
my  word,  Frank,"  continued  Sir  John,  "  you  have  made 
the  best  use  of  your  time.     Business  again, — eh.  Jack  ? " 

Jack  Webber.  "  Good  sort  of  stock,  upon  my  word  ; 
plenty  of  strength  on  short  legs.  Ah,  here's  an  old  friend 
of  mine.  I  drove  that  black  piebald  for  three  months  as 
leader  in  my  coach,  and  a  cajDital  leader  he  is." 

Frank  Baby.  "  Then  why  was  he  sold  ? " 

Jack  Webber.  "For  two  reasons.  First,  he  fetched  a 
good  price  from  a  young  carpet  -  manufacturer  in  the 
Borough,  who  went  down  one  day  with  me,  and  fell  in 
love  with  him  ;  secondly,  he  was  a  bad  starter  at  one  end 
of  his  ground.  I  would  never  keep  a  bad  starter,  if  I 
horsed  a  coach.  They  are  generally  the  best  of  cattle 
when  once  off,  but  they  alarm  passengers,  and  get  the 
coach  a  bad  name.  That  horse  tAvice  fell  back  with  me, 
and  once  broke  the  main  bar." 


THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN        271 

Frank  Baby.  "And  what  did  he  do  with  the  carpet- 
manufacturer  ? " 

Jack  Webber.  "  Frightened  him  out  of  his  wits  the  first 
time  he  put  him  to  his  drag." 

Frank  Rabij.  "But  did  he  not  know  he  was  a  bad 
starter  ? " 

Jack  Webber.  "  Oh  no ;  he  only  saw  him  at  the  down 
change,  where  he  always  went  off  quietly." 

Hargrave.  "And  how  happened  it  that  he  would  not 
start  well  at  the  up  change  ? " 

Jack  Webber.  "  We  had  a  cruel  scoundrel  of  a  horse- 
keeper  there,  who  used  to  beat  him  with  a  broomstick, 
because  he  was  rather  ticklish  to  dress.  Horses  have 
better  memories  than  we  give  them  credit  for." 

Hargrave.  "  But  why  did  he  frighten  the  carpet-manu- 
facturer, whose  servants,  perhaps,  never  beat  him  ? " 

Jack  Webber.  "  Why,  they  put  him  down  to  the  bottom 
of  the  bit,  whereas  I  always  drove  him  to  the  cheek.  And 
how  has  he  been  starting  with  you,  Frank  ? " 

Frank  Rabij.  "  Rather  queerly,  the  first  time,  because  he 
did  not  like  his  side  ;  but  since  I  have  changed  it,  nothing 
can  be  better.  No  one  who  knew  anything  about  putting 
horses  into  harness  would  have  put  such  a  mouth  as  his 
anywhere  but  to  the  cheek.  I  would  not  take  100  guineas 
for  him." 

Sir  John.  "  I  remember  just  such  an  instance  as  that 
you  have  been  relating  of  this  horse,  in  a  grey  mare  that 
went  at  wheel  in  the  Worcester  mail.  At  Bengeworth, 
she  was  very  difficult  to  put  to  the  coach  at  all ;  but  at 
Worcester  she  would  almost  put  herself  to,  and  stand  for 
half  an  hour.  She  had  some  reason,  no  doubt,  for  her 
dislike  to  Bengeworth." 

•    Frank  Baby.  "  How  did  they  manage  her  at  the  down 
change  ? " 

Sir  John.  "  ^Vllen  the  other  three  horses  were  put  to, 
the  coachman  and  guard  up,  and  the  passengers  all  seated, 
she  was  brought  quickly  out  of  the  yard,  with  scarcely 
time  to  look  about  her ;  the  leading-rein  being  passed 
through  her  turrets,  and  chucked  to  the  coachman's  hand, 
her  traces  were  put  over  the  roller-bolts,  by  two  nimble 
horse-keepers,  and  away  she  started,  with  a  rush." 

Jack  Webber.  "  What !  not  poled  up  ? " 

Sir  John.  "  Very  seldom  ;  the  man  who  brought  her  up 
to  her  place  would  generally  succeed  in  putting  the  pole- 


272        THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN 

chain  through,  the  ring  'of  her  harness,  and  now  and  then 
hooking  it ;  but  nine  times  in  ten  it  was  not  hooked  until 
she  had  gone  a  mile  or  so,  when,  by  easing  the  pace,  the 
guard  was  enabled  to  do  it." 

Frank  Raby.  "And  did  she  never  get  back  on  the 
splinter-bar,  and  kick  1 " 

Sir  John.  "  Oh  no  ;  she  was  not  one  of  that  sort.  All 
she  wanted  was  to  get  away  with  the  coach  from  the  scene 
of  her  dislike,  and  the  faster  the  better,  for  she  was  a 
capital  bit  of  stuff.  Then  again  she  was  in  the  hands  of 
a  first-rate  coachman.  In  the  hands  of  a  spoon,  she  would 
have  been  dangerous." 

Frank  Rahy.  "  Is  he  still  at  work  ;  I  should  like  to  see 
him,  if  he  is." 

Sir  John.  "He  is  not ;  he  is  dying  from  the  effects  of 
hot  rum-and-water." 

Jack  Webber.  "  More's  the  pity  ;  but  why  was  not  that 
mare  put  before  the  bars,  instead  of  at  wheel  ? " 

Sir  John.  "  She  would  not  have  that  place,  or  it  would 
have  been  the  fittest  for  her,  no  doubt.  I  thought  she  did 
the  mail  harm  with  the  public,  and  I  told  the  proprietors 
I  thought  so  ;  but  she  was  too  good  to  be  drafted." 

Jack  Webber.  "  Well,  Kaby,  as  far  as  I  can  see  of  them, 
I  think  you  have  made  no  bad  selection  ;  but  further 
cannot  be  said  till  we  see  them  in  harness,  which  I  suppose 
we  shall  to-morrow.  In  the  meantime  let  us  look  at  your 
harness-room." 

Sir  John.  "  Well  done,  Frank  ;  all  appears  to  be  right 
here.  Two  sets  of  road  -  harness  for  the  drag  ;  one  for 
your  chariot  (for  church  and  dinner-work,  I  presume) ; 
and  one  set  for  the  break.  Whose  work  is  it,  for  it 
appears  first-rate  % " 

Frank  Raby.  "One  set  of  road-harness  and  the  pair- 
horse  are  from  Wliippy  ;  the  other  set  of  the  former  from 
Laurie — the  two  best  harness-makers  in  London,  I  believe 
— and  that  for  the  break  was  made  in  the  village.  I  like 
to  lay  out  money  near  at  home,  when  I  can ;  but  there  is 
no  harness  fit  to  be  looked  at,  of  country  make." 

Jack  Webber.  "  You  are  quite  right,  Kaby,  and  you  have 
gone  to  a  good  market.     And  your  whips  ? " 

Frank  Raby.  "  From  Crowther,  of  course.  They  cost  a 
guinea  each ;  devilish  dear,  to  be  sure  ;  but  they  are  so 
nicely  turned  out.  They  are  the  only  crops  I  could  ever 
find  to  stand  wet  weather  without  losing  shape  ;  and  when 


THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN        273 

the  thong  suits  them,  there  is  nothing  like  them  for 
punishing  when  it  is  wanted." 

Jack  Webber,  "  I  like  your  pads  much.  They  are  well 
stuffed,  so  as  to  cause  no  pressure  on  the  back-bone,  which 
sets  a  horse  wrong." 

Sir  John.  "  Exactly  so ;  there  is  a  strong  sympathetic 
feeling  between  the  back-bone  and  the  withers,  and  when 
a  horse  is  pinched  by  his  pad,  his  patience  is  often  ex- 
hausted, and  he  makes  an  attempt  to  relieve  himself. 
Being  galled  in  the  shoulder  is  a  trifle  to  a  pinch  on  the 
back  or  withers  ;  and  no  doubt  many  a  cockney's  gig  has 
been  kicked  to  pieces  from  this  cause,  of  which  they  have 
not  been  in  the  least  conscious.  I  once  had  a  proof  of  it. 
I  drove  a  horse  fourteen  miles  in  a  gig  ;  and  just  as  he 
was  entering  on  the  fifteenth — without  the  least  provoca- 
tion that  I  could  discern — without  a  whip,  rein,  or  even  a 
fly  touching  him,  he  began  to  mill,  and — to  use  a  coaching 
phrase — a  sack  was  wanted  to  bring  home  the  gig.  I 
luckily  escaped,  but  my  servant  was  a  good  deal  hurt ; 
and  I  found  out  that  the  cause  of  the  disaster  was  the  pad 
pressing  on  the  back-bone,  which  was  becoming  very  much 
inflamed." 

Frank  Rahy.  "  Well,  I  think  we  have  seen  all  we  can 
see  for  the  present ;  and  as  the  dressing-bell  has  rung,  we 
had  better  walk  towards  the  house.  I  never  keep  dinner 
waiting  if  I  can  avoid  it,  for  it  is  unfair  towards  the  cook  ; 
let  us  then " 

Jack  Webber.  "  One  moment  longer  !  Just  let  me  look 
into  your  tool-box — a  most  necessary  thing  to  keep  the 
drag  moving.  I  should  have  been  hung  up  many  times 
on  those  Brighton  South  Downs,  but  for  mine.  Let  me 
see. — Here  is  the  screw-wrench  ;  wheel  and  spring  clips  ; 
two  spring  shackels,  with  bolts  and  nuts  ;  two  chains — one 
for  a  trace,  when  wanting,  and  the  other  shorter,  with  a  ring 
at  one  end,  and  a  hook  at  the  other,  in  case  of  a  tug  giving 
way  ;  but  where  is  the  little  strap,  with  two  buckles  1 " 

Frank  Raby.  "  The  little  strap  with  two  buckles  ;  I 
know  not  what  you  mean?" 

Jack  Webber.  "Then  you  know  not  a  very  useful 
appendage  to  the  tool-box,  inasmuch  as,  should  any  part 
of  the  reins,  or  indeed  most  parts  of  the  harness,  give  way, 
it  comes  into  use  in  a  moment.  I  always  carried  two  of 
them  in  my  pocket,  one  somewhat  broader  and  stronger 
than  the  other." 

18 


274       THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN- 

Frank  Rahy.  "Just  describe  tliis  strap." 

Sir  John.  "  /  can  do  that  for  you,  as  I  am  never  without 
one  of  them  in  the  pocket  of  my  great-coat.  It  need  not 
he  more  than  six  inches  long,  but  must  have  a  strong 
buckle  at  each  end.  Anything,  then,  in  the  shape  of  a 
strap  being  broken,  can  be  instantly  made  serviceable  by 
launching  two  holes,  if  none  are  already  within  reach,  to 
receive  the  tongues  of  the  buckles." 

Somerhy.  "  But,  Eaby,  where  are  the  hunters  ? " 

Frank  Eaby.  "  They  are  at  Amstead,  in  paddocks, 
which  I  had  made  for  them  last  year  ;  but  against  next 
spring  I  hope  to  have  the  means  of  summering  them  here, 
under  my  own  eye." 

Hargrave.  "  My  horses  are  treated  after  your  plan  this 
summer,  and  I  expect  the  greatest  benefit  from  it,  next 
season." 

Frank  Rahy.  "  Depend  upon  it  you  will  not  be  disap- 
pointed. I  had  a  remarkable  proof  of  the  superiority  of 
condition  attained  by  it,  in  the  course  of  a  run  in  the  last 
season.  We  came  to  a  check  at  the  end  of  a  sharp  burst, 
when  some  one  observed — '  What  a  steam  there  was  from 
the  horses  ! '  '  There  is  no  steam  from  mine,'  said  I  ; 
neither  was  there  ;  in  fact  he  was  beginning  to  get  dry  on 
his  neck." 

Hargrave.  "  It  must  be  a  great  advantage  to  a  hunter 
not  to  sweat  much — or,  at  all  events,  to  become  soon  cool ; 
as  exhaustion  must  be  proportionably  diminished." 

At  six  o'clock  precisely — there  were  no  eight  o'clock 
dinners  at  this  period,  in  the  summer  months,  in  the 
country — our  party  sat  down  to  just  such  a  dinner  as  we 
may  imagine  our  young  sportsman  to  have  given  them — 
not  of  the  first  quality,  for  the  chef  de  cuisine  was  wanting, 
but  such  as  no  English  gentleman  could  find  fault  with. 
Neither  were  the  wines  in  the  highest  order  for  drinking, 
although  all  were  excellent  of  their  sort,  time  not  having 
been  allowed  for  their  recovering  themselves,  after  their 
transport  from  London  and  Dublin — the  claret  having 
been  imported  from  the  latter  city.  Everything,  however, 
in  the  shape  of  liquids,  that  could  be  improved  by  it,  was 
iced,  even  to  the  home-brewed  small  beer — no  very  con- 
temptible beverage  to  travellers  who  had  been  exposed  to 
a  midsummer  sun. 

It  was  the  fashion  in  those  days  to  drink  toasts  in  all 
private  parties,  among  sportsmen  especially  ;  and  the  third 


THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN        275 

given  this  evening, — tliat  is  to  say,  the  one  following  the 
King,  and  fox-hunting,  was — "  the  road  !  "  As  may  be 
supposed,  it  gave  rise  to  some  conversation  on  the  subject, 
of  which  the  following  is  the  substance  : — 

Sir  John.  "  Well,  Frank,  I  must  say  that,  from  what  I 
have  to-day  seen  of  your  coaching  establishment,  I  am 
inclined  to  think  you  will  make  a  very  good  start  on  the 
road — that  is  to  say,  if  the  cattle  are  to  your  liking." 

Lord  Edmonston.  "  I  think  so,  too ;  but  you  will  pay 
dear  for  your  whistle.  I  understand  the  expenses  of  a 
complete  driving  establishment,  to  the  same  extent  as 
yours,  are  calculated  at  £1200  a  year,  at  least." 

Sir  John.  "  I  can  confirm  that  by  my  own  experience. 
Mine  costs  me  a  little  more  than  that  sum,  including  what 
I  give  away  annually  to  road  coachmen  and  guards." 

Lord  Ednionston.  "  You  are  the  Maecenas  of  guards  and 
coachmen,  I  understand,  Inkleton.  At  all  events,  your 
name  is  known  to  all  that  I  have  ever  come  into  contact 
with,  and  on  all  roads." 

Sir  John.  "  I  do  what  I  can  for  them  ;  I  think  that, 
when  they  conduct  themselves  properly,  they  are  a  very 
deserving  set  of  men,  and  are  not  so  well  remunerated  as 
they  ought  to  be,  considering  the  wear  and  tear  of  life 
inseparable  from  their  calling,  and  the  risks  they  incur  of 
accidents.  I  do  not  grudge  what  they  get  from  me, 
because  I  have  seen  much  improvement  amongst  them, 
on  my  road,  from  the  notice  I  have  taken  of  them.  They 
are  aware  that  good  conduct  is  their  only  passport  to  my 
favour." 

Lord  Edraonston.  "And  is  it  true,  Inkleton,  that  the 
expenses  of  a  stud  of  twelve  hunters  and  two  hacks,  at 
Melton,  amount  to  £1200  per  annum  1 " 

Sir  John.  "  As  nearly  so  as  possible — I  mean  the  stud 
only ;  that  sum  extends  not  beyond  the  stable-yard ;  it 
has  nothing  to  do  with  the  house  expenses  of  their  owner.'"' 

Goodall.  "  Why,  Frank,  £2500  a  year  for  horses  only  ! 
It  will  make  a  big  hole  in  the  £5000  a  year,  eh  ?  We 
shall  be  having  another  journey  together  into  the  city,  if 
the  Squire  of  Amstead  lives  to  be  as  old  as  my  father 
is,  eh?" 

Frank  Baby.  "  Thanks  for  the  hint,  Goodall,  although 
it  smells  a  little  of  the  sho^.  But  you  forget  that  all  the 
money  my  poor  uncle  left  me  is  at  my  disposal,  so  that  if, 
during  my  father's  life — which  I  hope  may  be  a  long  one 


276        THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN 

— I  should  overshoot  the  mark,  I  must  trespass  a  little 
on  the  principal.  And  that  won't  matter  much,  for  I 
daresay  I  shall  never  marry.  Besides,  I  have  given 
orders  for  the  sale  of  that  little  estate  in  Hertfordshire, 
which  is  only  fit  for  a  cockney  ;  and  I  daresay  that,  from 
its  pretty  situation,  and  by  the  help  of  one  of  Robins's  best 
puffs,  it  will  fetch  £10,000.  That  would  give  me  another 
£1000  a  year,  as  I  shall  sink  the  principal  in  an  annuity 
for  my  life.  I  don't  mean  to  run  in  debt ;  and  Inkleton 
says,  if  I  do  as  he  does — keep  an  account  of  my  expenses, 
and  pay  ready  money  for  most  of  the  articles  consumed, 
I  shall  never  hurt  myself.  And  you  know  I  have  no  taste 
for  gambling." 

Lord  Ednionston.  "  Not  for  a  little  racing,  Frank  ? " 

Frank  Baby.  "  Why,  I  intend  having  a  shy  at  that,  as 
we  used  to  say  at  Eton  ;  but,  having  been  once  caught,  I 
shall  be  cautious." 

Hargrave.  "  Better  stick  to  hounds  and  the  coach-box. 

There  are  such  a  number  of  d d  rogues  on  the  Turf,  that 

I  think  you  will  do  no  good  on  that  ground.  Remember 
what  Fairfax  told  you  at  Christchurch.  There  are  not 
many  better  judges,  I  believe,  than  his  father  is,  but  he 
is  minus  £100,000  by  the  Turf,  which  is  awful  to  think 
of,  especially  when  one  considers  into  what  worthless 
hands  a  great  portion  of  it  is  gone." 

Frank  Baby.  "  The  legs  !  " 

Hargrave.  "  Yes  ;  what  chance  would  you  or  any  other 
gentleman  have  in  betting  with  men  who  pay  annually 
large  sums  to  trainers  for  information  as  to  trials,  &c.  ? 
A  dead  loss,  depend  on  it,  Frank." 

Jack  Webber.  "  I  think  so,  too.  Stick  to  the  box  and 
the  pig-skin,  Frank,  and  don't  put  it  in  the  power  of 
those  fellows  to  ruin  you  first,  and  laugh  at  you  afterwards, 
as  they  have  done  by  poor  Raymond.  I  understand  he 
has  lost  his  last  shilling,  and  is  at  this  time  in  prison." 

Frank  Baby.  "  For  a  heavy  sum  ? " 

Jack  Webber.  "  I  know  not  for  what  amount,  but " 

Sir  John.  "Well,  let  us  drop  this  subject,  and  have  a 
little  coaching  talk.  Give  us  your  opinion,  Jack,  of  what 
a  coach-horse  should  be.  You  have  not  only  a  good  eye 
to  shape  and  make,  but  your  two  years'  constant  work 
must  have  given  you  an  advantage  over  us  amateurs — 
even  over  one  of  such  long  standing  as  mine,  for  I  have 
been  at  it,  now,  better  than  eight  years." 


THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN        277 

Jack  Webher.  "The  first  requisite  in  a  coach-horse  is 
action.  The  second,  substance,  because  horses  draw  by 
their  weight  and  not  by  the  mere  force  of  their  muscles, 
but  action  is  necessary  to  perpetuate  this  force.  Thirdly, 
good  legs  and  feet,  with  power  and  breeding  equal  to  the 
nature  and  length  of  the  ground  or  stage  on  which  they 
are  to  work.  Lastly,  wind.  Without  good  wind  all  the 
other  properties  are  of  no  avail  in  a  coach-horse  required 
to  go  fast ;  for,  let  its  strength  be  what  it  may,  it  will  not 
avail  much  after  the  first  five  miles,  if  he  have  not  good 
wind.  A  good  winded  coach-horse  will  always  keep  up 
his  condition,  because  he  is  never  distressed  on  any 
reasonable  length  of  ground.  Sound  legs  and  feet  are 
very  necessary  for  wheel-horses,  especially  on  hilly  roads ; 
but  I  have  driven  many  a  good  and  safe-footed  bad-legged 
leader,  which  has  been  a  free  worker,  running  well  up  to 
his  bit.  I  consider  fifteen  hands  two  inches  to  be  the 
best  size  for  a  horse  for  light  coaches  and  quick  work  ; 
but  would  prefer  sixteen  hands  for  heavy  coaches  and 
slow  work." 

Frank  Baby.  "  You  have  said  nothing  of  the  mouth." 

Jack  Webber.  "  Oh,  we  must  take  mouths  as  we  find 
them,  in  regular  work.  We  like  what  we  call  '  cheek 
horses,'  when  we  can  get  them,  but  we  manoeuvre  them  in 
the  best  way  we  can,  when  we  find  them  queer  ;  and  with 
the  help  of  check-reins,  side-reins,  nose  martingales, 
curb-chain  in  the  mouth,  altering  the  coupling-reins, 
and  such  like,  we  generally  bring  them  to  our  hands. 
But  in  regular  work,  mouth  in  a  coach-horse  is  of  not  so 
much  consequence,  because  he  is  always  running  home, 
and  knows  his  ground.  For  gentleman's  work  mouth  is 
everything,  on  account  of  the  turning  and  twisting  to 
which  they  are  subject.  Gentleman's  horses  should  play 
with  their  bits,  and  not  be  afraid  of  them  ;  and  each  side 
of  their  mouths  should  be  equal.  When  this  is  the  case, 
the  higher  their  courage  the  safer  they  are  to  drive, 
because,  when  running  fearlessly  up  to  their  bits,  they 
feel  every  motion  of  their  coachman's  hand.  Of  all  teams, 
the  most  difficult  to  drive  is  that  in  which  there  are  two 
good  and  sufficientlv  free  workers,  one  slug,  and  a  raking 
(fretful)  leader." 

Sir  John.  "  You  are  right.  Jack  ;  it  is  a  regular  teazer. 
Let  us  have  your  science  on  that  point." 

Jack  Webber.  "  As  regards  the  '  raker,'  you  shall — the 


278        THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN 

science  tliat  was  given  to  me  by  tlie  best  and  quickest  man 
on  his  box  that  I  have  ever  yet  seen.  '  Something  must 
be  done,'  said  he,  '  to  keep  him  from  killing  himself.  Try 
a  check-rein  to  his  partner  ;  if  that  won't  check  him,  it 
will  bring  his  partner  up  to  him,  and  that  is  something 
gained.  If  you  attempt  to  pull  him  back  by  his  bit,  do- 
it gently  ;  if  violently,  you  pull  him  back  on  his  bar, 
which  only  makes  him  worse.  The  best  way  is,  when 
there  is  no  check-rein  used,  to  bring  him  back  by  his 
harness  ;  that  is,  to  keep  the  wheel-horses  back,  so  that  he 
may  feel  the  collar  and  his  bit  at  the  same  time,  which  will 
tend  to  soothe  his  temper.'  Then  he  taught  me  another 
move,  which  I  have  ever  since  practised.  '  When  a  whole 
team  are  overdoing  it,'  said  he,  '  don't  draw  all  your  reins 
through  your  fingers  at  the  same  moment.  By  doing  so, 
your  horses'  mouths  {i.e.  the  proper  feeling  of  them, 
which  you  may  have  taken  some  trouble  to  acquire)  will 
very  often  be  lost.  The  following  is  a  better  plan  : — 
Open  the  fingers  of  your  right  hand,  and  put  the  reins 
into  them,  and  with  a  good  gripe,  about  two  inches  in 
front  of  your  left  hand,  and  then  catch  them  again  with 
your  left  hand,  by  j^assing  it  in  front  of  your  right.  You 
then  have  their  mouths  just  as  they  were,  with  only  a 
stronger  pull  upon  them.'  He  also  gave  me  the  following 
hints,  which  I  never  lost  sight  of  : — '  The  powers  of  a 
horse  in  fast  work,  and  with  a  heavy  load,'  said  he,  '  can 
be  measured  to  a  mile.  He  may  be  very  good  for  seven 
or  eight  miles,  but  bad  for  ten  or  twelve.  The  priming, 
indeed,  is  soon  taken  out  of  most  of  them,  with  a  heavy 
load,  and  they  must  be  looked  to.  Wheelers  have  the 
hardest  j^lace,  everything  considered,  as  they  are  at  work 
up  hill  and  down  ;  nevertheless,  they  must  chiefly  regulate 
the  speed,  by  keeping  them  up  to  the  leaders,  instead  of 
forcing  the  leaders  to  get  away  from  them  ;  in  fact,  if 
favour  be  shown,  it  should  be  to  the  leaders.  You  may 
drag  a  tired  wheeler  home,  and  he  can  shift  a  little  in  his 
work  ;  but  if  a  leader  cuts  it,  you  are  planted — add  to 
which,  the  wheel-horses  are  generally  the  strongest  of  the 
team.  Always  put  your  freest  leader  on  the  near  side,  as 
you  will  have  him  better  in  hand  than  if  he  were  on  the 
other.  If  a  leader  is  weak,  and  cannot  take  his  bar,  tie 
up  the  wheeler  that  follows  him,  and  it  will  place  him 
by  the  side  of  his  partner.  Leaders  should  be  fast  trotters  ; 
when  cantering  or  galloping,  the  bars  are  never  at  rest. 


THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN        279 

consequently  much  of  the  draught  is  lost  in  the  angles 
they  describe.' " 

Frank  Raby.  "  Do  vou  like  throat-latching  coach- 
horses  ? " 

Jack  Webber.  "  Not  always.  I  think  wheelers  are 
better  with  more  liberty  than  they  have  when  throat- 
latched,  and  many  horses  will  pull  and  fret  in  the  throat- 
latch,  but  go  quietly  out  of  it ;  they  do  not  like  the  con- 
finement of  it.  Dealing  with  horses'  mouths,  in  harness, 
to  make  them  work  pleasantly  and  equably,  is  no  easy 
task.  Some  will  not  face  a  curb  ;  on  others  it  appears  to 
make  very  little  impression.  It  is  difficult  to  handle  a 
tender-mouthed  leader.  His  coupling-rein  must  be  at 
the  cheek,  or " 

Frank  Raby.  "Why  not  drive  him  in  a  snaffle,  at 
once  ? " 

Jack  Webber.  "  A  snaffle  is  not  safe  :  in  case  of  a  bolt, 
or  a  drop,  you  cannot  be  sure  of  catching  a  horse  up 
quickly,  at  that  distance  from  the  hand.  He  should  have 
good  liberty  in  his  bearing- rein,  and  his  curb-chain  should 
be  slack.  But,  of  all  mouths,  a  dead  mouth  is  the  worst. 
In  this  case,  put  the  bearing-rein  to  the  toi)  of  the  bit  (not 
the  cheek),  and  the  coupling-rein  to  the  lowest  loop  in  the 
bit,  which  creates  a  counter-action  ;  and  not  only  makes 
the  bit  of  more  service,  but  keeps  the  mouth  in  play. 
This  appears  a  severe  remedy,  but  such  is  the  danger 
attending  dead-mouthed  horses,  that  we  must  not  be  too 
scrupulous  on  that  head." 

Frank  Raby.  "  One  of  my  wheel-horses  is  playful,  and 
has  twice  kicked  over  his  trace.  Should  I  work  him  in 
a  kicking  trace  '? " 

Jack  Webber.  "  No,  it  is  not  necessary  ;  what  is  called 
a  hip-strap  is  sufficient,  by  which  the  trace  is  lifted  up  as 
the  horse  lifts  himself  ;  thus  he  cannot  jump  over  it. 
It  is  not  an  ornament  to  your  harness,  having  rather  a 
slow  appearance  ;  but  it  looks  better  than  a  kicking-trace, 
and,  unless  with  a  really  vicious  horse,  answers  all  ends." 

"  Sir  John.  "  Were  you  ever  hung  up.  Jack,  on  the 
Brighton  ground,  for  I  know  you  loaded  well,  and  there 
are  some  sharp  hills  on  it  ? " 

Lord  Edmonston.  "  Hung  up !  What  are  you  talking 
about  ?  I  think  if  Jack  had  been  hung  up  for  a  very  few 
seconds,  we  should  not  have  had  him  here,  for  his  weight 
would  soon  have " 


28o       THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN 

Jack  Webber.  "Choked  him  in  his  collar,  you  were 
going  to  say.  Being  hung  up,  in  coaching  phraseology, 
means  being  brought  to  a  standstill,  from  one  cause  or 
another.  I  have  never  been  quite  fast ;  but  having  had 
my  share  of  high-blowers  and  soft-hearted  ones,  I  have 
now  and  then  found  it  difficult  to  keep  my  time.  With 
horses  of  this  description,  I  have  always  found  it  answer 
to  keep  them  from  their  collar,  and  let  them  only  carry 
their  harness,  for  a  few  hundred  yards,  when  they  recover 
themselves.  A  little  watching  and  nursing  was  necessary 
at  all  times  on  our  road,  as  we  were  not  capitally  horsed." 

Goodall.  "  How  very  fat  some  of  the  horses  are  which 
run  out  of  London." 

Jack  Webber.  "  So  much  the  better  ;  good  flesh  is  not 
an  obstacle  to  going  the  pace  ;  and  no  horses  on  the  road 
look  so  well  as  what  are  called  the  London  horses  ;  their 
stables  are  warm  ;  they  have  the  best  of  hay  and  corn, 
and  are  under  the  eye  of  a  sharp-eyed  foreman,  who  knows 
his  business  well." 

Frank  Raby.  "I  suppose,  Jack,  you  are  all  for  the 
long  wheel-reins  ?" 

Jack  Webber.  "  No  one,  south  of  Trent,  is  now  seen 
driving  with  any  other.  They  are  much  the  safest  and 
most  business-like  :  the  mouths  of  wheel-horses  cannot  be 
felt  as  they  should  be  felt,  with  the  short  wheel-rein." 

Hargrave.  "  Do  you  think  it  is  injurious  to  a  hunter  to 
drive  him  occasionally  in  light  harness  ?  " 

Jack  Webber.  "By  no  means,  provided  his  legs  and 
feet  are  good  ;  much  better  do  that  than  send  him  to  grass, 
to  become  full  of  bad  flesh." 

Sornerby.  "  I  am  no  coachman,  but  I  often  go  from 
Melton  to  London  on  the  box  of  the  mail,  and  one  thing 
puzzles  me.  I  often  see  the  traces  of  a  wheel-horse  appear 
slack,  and  still  the  coachman  is  satisfied  with  the  working 
of  the  horse.     How  is  that,  Mr.  Webber  ? " 

Jack  Webber.  "  I  will  explain  it  in  two  words.  If  a  trace 
be  twisted,  it  will  never  appear  to  be  '  taut,'  as  the  sailors 
say  ;  but  a  coachman  knows  when  a  horse  is  at  work,  by 
a  certain  tension  of  his  frame." 

Hargrave.  "Will  you  tell  me  the  best  way  to  put 
horses  into  harness  the  first  time  ? " 

Jack  Webber.  "  You  mean  double  harness." 

Hargrave.  "  I  do." 

Jack  Webber.   "  Then   I  will  give  you  the  directions 


THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN        281 

which  were  given  to  me  by  one  of  the  best  judges  of  every- 
thing that  belongs  to  the  amateur  coach-box,  at  this  time 
in  England.  It  is  best  to  put  a  young  horse  in,  the  first 
time,  with  only  one  other,  which  should  be  steady,  good- 
collared,  and  quick.  A  great  deal  of  room  should  be  given 
him  in  his  head,  and  he  should  be  driven  at  the  cheek  of 
an  easy  bit,  with  his  pole-piece  rather  slack.  He  should  be 
started  very  quietly,  making  the  old  horse  take  collar 
first ;  and  the  first  start  should  be  in  a  wide  space  of 
ground,  so  that  he  may  be  allowed  to  go  any  way  he 
pleases,  without  being  checked.  If  he  is  alarmed,  and 
inclined  to  bounce  or  bolt,  he  should  not  be  held  hard, 
and  on  no  account  stopi^ed  ;  for,  if  he  is,  he  may  not  like 
to  start  again — particularly  if  high-mettled.  The  old 
horse  will  hold  him,  so  as  to  prevent  his  running  far.  If 
a  young  horse  is  shy  of  his  collar — as  most  are — ^he  should 
not  be  pressed  at  first,  as  he  may  take  a  dislike  to  it,  and 
become  a  jibber.  If  not  forced,  they  will  generally  take 
to  it  of  their  own  accord.  When  a  young  coach-horse  is 
stopped,  it  should  be  done  very  gradually — allowing  at 
least  ten  yards  to  do  it  in  ;  for  if  it  is  attempted  to  stop 
him  short,  he  will  resist,  and  then  he  is  drawing  hy  his 
head.  For  the  same  reason,  coach-horses  should  not  be 
held  too  hard  when  descending  hills,  which  is  a  fault  many 
coachmen  have.  They  forget  the  great  additional  weight 
they  are  throwing  upon  them,  as  they  are  then  drawing 
by  their  heads.  When  a  young  horse  is  first  jDut  to  a 
coach,  he  should  be  very  carefully  turned  to  the  pole,  so 
as  to  prevent  its  touching  his  hind  quarter,  which  might 
cause  him  to  kick.  When  he  has  been  driven  long  enough 
to  make  him  steady,  he  should  be  taken  up  in  his  bearing- 
rein,  and  put  down  lower  on  his  bit,  and  driven  in  a  wide 
circle,  or  figure  of  eight — keeping  the  inner  horse  well  up 
to  his  collar  and  bit.  In  his  breaking  he  should  be  fre- 
quently stopped,  and  not  held  after  he  is  pulled  up,  as,  if 
he  is  high-mettled,  it  will  make  him  restless,  and,  if  dull, 
he  will  not  require  it.  Great  care  should  be  taken,  at 
starting,  to  make  the  old  horse  begin  first,  if  the  young 
one  be  inclined  to  be  hot,  as  it  will  prevent  him  from 
plunging.  If  he  is  dull,  and  not  ready  to  start  when  the 
word  of  command  is  given,  he  should  feel  the  whip  till  he 
answers  it.  If  inclined  to  kick,  he  should  be  taken  up 
very  short  in  his  pole-piece,  and  his  bearing-rein  tightened; 
a  stroke  of  the  whip  over  the  ears  is  also  useful — a  kind 


282        THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN 

of  punishment  that,  in  my  opinion,  should  never  be  in- 
flicted but  for  vice.  It  is  a  brutal  practice,  and  one  which  I 
never  had  recourse  to  myself,  except  in  the  case  of  a  kicker. 
Young  horses  should  have  their  heads  a  good  deal  at  liberty. 
Throat-latching  a  young  horse,  either  wheeler  or  leader, 
shows  great  want  of  judgment.  Some  will  go  more  quietly 
as  leaders  than  at  wheel,  the  reason  for  which  I  conceive  to 
be,  their  not  liking  to  find  themselves  confined  by  the  pole- 
piece.  All  young  horses  should  have  their  sides  frequently 
changed," 

Hargrave.  "  Thank  you  kindly,  Jack,  for  your  good 
and  practical  advice.  I  will  ODly  trouble  you  to  decide 
a  dispute  lately  in  my  presence,  as  to  what  description  of 
road  is  easier  of  draught  ?  " 

Jack  Webber.  "  I  can  settle  that  point  for  you  on  the 
authority  of  a  very  scientific  man,  and  you  will  be  sur- 
prised at  the  result.  The  draught  of  a  horse  in  harness  is 
thus  calculated.  On  good  pavement — 33  lb.  ;  on  broken 
stone  surface — 65  lb.  ;  on  broken  stone,  hard  bound — 
45  lb.  ;  on  loose  gravel — 147  lb.  !  This  accounts  for  the 
London  mail,  and  also  that  which  runs  to  Manchester 
from  Chester,  having  only  three  horses  for  the  first  twenty 
or  thirty  miles,  the  road  being  paved.  As  coachmen  say, 
when  describing  the  vis  vivida  of  the  mechanic,  a  coach 
running  over  pavement  is  always  alive.  In  fact,  she 
jumps  ^from  stone  to  stone,  whereby  her  motion  is 
accelerated." 

Lord  Edmonston.  "As  for  coaching,  as  you  gentlemen 
of  the  whip  express  yourselves,  I  know  nothing  of  it 
practically,  and  we  should  not  attempt  what  we  do  not 
understand.  We  have  a  good  hint  on  this  subject  in  the 
fable  of  Icarus,  and  Persius  tells  us  that,  if  a  ploughman 
were  to  take  the  helm  of  a  ship,  the  gods  would  leave  him 
to  his  fate.  I  repeat,  then,  that  I  know  nothing  of  '  coach- 
ing,' but  I  see  no  reason  why  English  gentlemen,  who  can 
afford  to  do  it,  may  not  indulge  themselves  in  driving  their 
own  coaches," 

Goodall.  "  It  is  an  old  fashion — Lateranus,  the  Roman 
consul,  drove  his  own  chariot." 

Lord  Edraonston.  "Yes,  but  only  by  night,  until  the 
year  of  his  ofl&ce  was  out." 

Goodall.  "  In  Greece  it  was  the  amusement  of  kings  : 
PhUip  of  Macedon  had  his  chariot  victories  engraved  on 
his  coins;  and  Alcibiades  had  as  many  coach-horses  in 


THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN        283 

training  as  Lord  Grosvenor  lias  racers  ;  and,  be  it  remem- 
bered that  the  fire  of  Pindar's  muse,  which  dazzled  all 
Greece,  shone  forth  in  honour  of  coachmen,  jockeys, 
wrestlers,  and  prize-fighters." 

Sir  John.  "  I  remember  he  tells  us  that  Pelops  broke 
his  arm  hitting  a  near  leader  in  his  race  with  CEnomaus. 
But,  jesting  apart,  we  have  taken  some  of  our  notions  on 
the  coach-box  from  the  '  old  ones,'  as  we  called  the  ancients, 
at  Eton.  For  example,  when  I  saw  Angus  the  other  day, 
in  the  j^ark,  cutting  a  figure  of  eight  with  his  four-in-hand, 
I  was  conduced  he  was  thinking  of  that  beautiful  passage 
in  the  ^neid,  where  the  sudden  and  artful  turns,  which 
the  goddess  Juturna  gave  to  her  brother's  chariot  to  avoid 
the  pursuit  of  ^neas,  are  compared  to  the  flight  of  the 
swallow,  when  seeking  food  for  her  young." 

Goodall.  "  And  you  have  them  again,  in  the  use  of  the 
word  'artful.'  When  Pant  on  was  complimenting  little 
Joe,  as  he  who  drives  the  Exeter  mail  out  of  London  is 
called,  on  his  being  so  good  a  coachman,  for  so  small  a 
man,  he  answered  him  thus  : — '  I'll  tell  you  how  it  is,  Sir 
Harry  ;  ivhat  the  big  ones  does  by  strength,  I  does  byhaiiijice.' 
Xow  did  not  Xestor  say  the  very  same  thing  when  he  was 
giving  instructions  to  his  son  how  to  drive  his  chariot, 
when  contending  for  the  prize  at  the  funeral  games  of 
Patroclus  ;  and  where,  although  the  worst  horsed  of  the 
lot,  he  was  only  beaten  by  a  length  ?  For  myself,  although 
no  coachman  beyond  driving  my  father's  curricle,  I  like 
to  listen  to  these  discussions  by  men  who  understand  the 
thing  well,  and  none  others  are  worth  listening  to.  If 
Eschylus  had  not  bled  on  the  plains  of  Marathon,  he 
could  not  have  celebrated  on  the  stage  the  triumphs  of  his 
country." 

Sir  John.  "There  is  no  small  degree  of  mechanical 
science,  as  well  as  knowledge  of  the  laws  of  motion,  to  be 
learnt  in  our  line,  eh.  Jack  ?  " 

Jack  Webber.  "  Indeed,  Inkleton,  there  is  ;  and  many  a 
life  has  been  lost  for  the  want  of  such  knowledge — in 
descending  hills,  and  turning  corners,  especially.  If  they 
were  aware  how  motion  is  accelerated  by  the  continuance 
of  the  impetus  in  one  case,  and,  in  the  other,  that, — as  by 
the  laws  of  nature,  all  bodies  put  in  motion  by  one  power 
will  proceed  in  a  straight  line,  unless  compelled  to  change 
their  course  by  some  force  impressed, — any  sudden  de- 
viation from  that  course  disturbs  the  centre  of  gravity  in 


284       THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN 

proportion  to  its  suddenness,  they  would  be  more  careful 
than  tliev  are.  I  could  have  told  you  all  about  these 
matters  when  I  left  Cambridge  ;  but  when  I  used  to  see 
a  passenger  on  my  coach  amusing  himself  with  watching 
the  shot  from  the  fore-wheel,  which,  on  certain  parts  of 
our  road,  would  rise  to  a  considerable  height,  whilst  I  was 
springing  them,  I  would  say  to  myself,  *  that  fellow  little 
thinks  he  is  taking  a  lesson  in  conic-sections,  and  that 
the  parabola  and  their  properties,  which  those  bits  of  dirt 
are  describing,  are  the  foundation  of  gunnery.' " 

Frank  Kaby.  "  Why,  Jack,  you  are  becoming 
scientific." 

Jack  Webher.  "  Not  much  of  that ;  but  if  some 
cleverer  fellow  than  myself  were  to  put  these  few  points 
before  road  coachmen,  in  plain  English,  and  in  a  small 
tract,  published  at  a  low  price,  the  travelling  public  would 
be  great  gainers." 

Houghton.  "  Whilst  on  the  subject  of  science,  I  wish  a 
pathometer  could  be  used,  to  enable  us  to  judge  of  the 
sufferings  of  horses  in  coaches  that  travel  so  fast,  and  in 
which  long  stages  are  run  with  very  indifferent  horses." 

Jack  Webher.  "  I  think  the  suffering  of  coach-horses  is 
becoming  less  every  year.  In  the  first  place,  they  are  of 
a  better  description  of  horse  than  formerly,  which  very 
much  reduces  it ;  secondly,  they  are  much  higher  fed  ; 
and,  lastl}^,  stages  are  much  shortened.  We  have  now  but 
few  twelve-mile,  and  no  fourteen-mile  stages.  I  have 
heard  my  father  say  that,  when  he  went  to  Rugby  school, 
there  was  a  team  on  the  Coventry  and  London  road,  called 
'  The  twenty  milers.'  They  went  from  the  '  Blue  Boar,' 
on  Dunsmore  Heath,  to  the  '  Black  Lion,'  at  Towcester — 
just  twenty  miles." 

Houghton.  "  The  '  Blue  Boar  '  and  the  '  Black  Lion  ! ' 
who  ever  heard  of  either,  except  in  the  imagination  of  a 
madman  ? " 

Jack  Webber.  "We  may  as  well  ask,  who  ever  saw  a 
white  lion,  or  a  unicorn,  the  latter  one  of  the  supporters 
of  our  crown  ?  For  my  part  I  never  could  find  out  anyone 
who  could  tell  me  what  is  meant  by  the  word  unicorn. 
It  cannot  be  an  animal  with  one  horn,  because  we  read 
in  scripture  of  the  horns  of  the  unicorn. 

Houghton.  "  I  believe  it  to  have  been  a  kind  of  rhino- 
ceros, whose  history  is  not  given  us  in  scripture,  but 
mentioned  by  Moses,  as  having  the  strength  of  God ;  or 


THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN        285 

an  animal  called  the  reem,  which  is  spoken  of  by  Joh  as 
an  unmanageable  animal,  of  great  strength,  but  one  which 
refused  to  bend  its  neck  to  the  yoke." 

Jack  Webber.  "No  bad  type  of  John  Bull,  we  must 
allow  ;  and  may  the  gods  preserve  me  from  a  unicorn 
team,  which  I  once  drove  for  three  months.  But  as  we 
call  a  one-eyed  horse,  '  single-peeper,'  should  not  a  one- 
horned  rhinoceros  be  called,  monoceros  ? '^ 

Frank  Baby.  "  You  are  becoming  facetious.  Jack  ; 
suppose  you  give  us  another  song," 

Jack  Webber.  "With  all  my  heart;  and  as  you  have 
been  speaking  of  Moses,  I  will  give  you  one  about 
Adam: — 

PARODY  ON  THE  'OLD  ENGLISHMAN.' 

'  Old  Adam  was  the  first-born  man,  as  everybody  knows, — 
He  never  paid  a  tailor's  bill,  because  he  wore  no  clothes  ; 
Nor  fine  kid  gloves  upon  his  hands,  as  you  may  well  suppose, 
Nor  dandy  collar  round  his  neck,  nor  shoes  to  hide  his  toes. 

Chorus  : — For  Adam  was  a  gentleman,  one  of  the  olden  time. 

He  neither  rent  nor  taxes  paid,  nor  duns  came  to  his  door, 
For  he  had   enough   of   meat  and  drink,  and  some  left  for  the 

poor  ; 
For  the  poor  were  not  then  born,  nor  either  were  the  great, 
No  rogues  or  thieves  had  he  to  fear,  so  he  never  lock'd  his  gate. 

For  Adam,  &c. 

His  wife  his  dinner  cook'd  each  day,  of  good  fat  roast  and  boil'd, 
And  oftentimes,  for  want  of  fire,  his  dinner  it  got  spoil'd  ; 
And  he   would  have  had   it   cook'd   by  gas,  but  he  could  not 

aff"ord — 
And  from  Oldham  had  his  coals,  but   the   pits   were   not   then 

bored. 

For  Adam,  &c. 

He  led  a  very  happy  sort  of  comfortable  life, 
And  never  quarrelled  with  anyone,  except  'twas  with  his  wife  ; 
And  she  durst  trust  him  out  at  nights,  for  so  some  people  say  ; 
Nor  was  she  ever  once  afraid  that  he  would  go  astray. 

For  Adam,  &c. 

And  Eve,  unlike  our  women  now,  in  bows  or  frills  ne'er  drest, 
Nor  ever  drank  or  gin  or  tea — now  was  not  Adam  blest? 
Her   neighbours  she   never   scandalized,  nor  treated  them  with 

scorn, 
She  was  the  pink  of  women  then,  because  none  else  were  born. 

For  Adam,  &c. 


-286       THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN 

Old  Adam  ne'er  example  took  by  other  people's  ways, 
Nor  ever  went  to  routs  or  balls,  to  concerts  or  to  plays  ; 
For  concert-rooms  and  playhouses,  they  were  not  built  then, 
And  Eve  was  never  once  accused  of  flirting  with  the  men. 

For  Adam,  &c. 

At  last  poor  Adam's  days  had  run  their  course,  and  then,  poor 

man,  he  died. 
Nor  was  there  even  one  stood  weeping  by  his  bed-side  ; 
Without  a  good  oak  coffin  they  laid  him  in  his  clay, 
Nor  were  they  afraid  of  body-snatchers  stealing  him  away. 

For  Adam,  &c."' 

Frank  Baby.  "Well  clone,  Jack!  you  sing  like  a 
nightingale,  and  the  sight  of  your  good-humoured  face 
adds  much  to  your  melody.  We  will  have  one  more 
bottle  of  claret,  a  rubber  at  whist,  in  the  other  room,  and 
to  bed  in  good  time — a  rule  I  mean  to  adopt  in  my  house, 
to  the  best  of  my  power  to  do  so.  It  is  written  of  Moses, 
of  whom  we  have  just  been  speaking,  that  at  the  age 
of  100  years,  'his  e3'e  was  not  dim,  neither  was  his 
natural  force  abated  ; '  and  as  I  hope  to  ride  a-hunting 
at  fourscore,  at  least,  I  mean  to  keep  early  hours,  as  no 
doubt  Moses  did." 

Jack  Webber.  "  But,  as  a  sportsman,  if  you  wish  to  be 
old,  you  must  not  regard  all  that  Moses  tells  you.  For 
example ;  he  says,  '  thou  shalt  not  wear  a  garment  of 
divers  sorts,  as  of  linen  and  icooUen  together.''  Now,  who 
can  expect  to  hunt  and  shoot,  in  this  country,  without 
suffering  from  rheumatism,  if  he  do  not  wear  flannel  under 
his  shirt ;  as  for  myself  I  should  have  been  frozen  as  stiff 
as  the  kitchen  poker,  many  a  night  during  the  frost  of 
last  winter  but  one,  if  I  had  not  been  allowed  to  roll 
myself  up  in  flannel." 

Frank  Raby.  "  Moses  lived  in  a  warm  climate.  Jack." 

The  first  step,  after  breakfast,  in  a  young  sportsman's 
house,  is  to  the  stables,  a  custom  which  was  not  departed 
from  by  the  party  at  Farndon  House  ;  and  when,  on  enter- 
ing it,  four  vacant  stalls  were  observed,  Jack  Webber 
exclaimed  : 

"  Hey-day,  Frank  !  what  is  become  of  your  skewbald 
team  ? "  meaning  the  one  to  which  the  chestnut  piebald 
belonged. 

"They  went  last  night  to  the  'Barley  Mow,'  twelve 
miles  from  hence,  to  take  us  on  to  Townley  Park,  twelve 
miles  further,  to  call  on  that  excellent  fellow,  as  well  as 


THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN        287 

capital  sportsman  and  coacliman,  Peyton,  in  whose  stables 
you  will  see  a  good  stud  of  both  hunters  and  coach-horses, 
all  in  right  keeping.  He  knows  that  we  are  coming,  so 
that  he  will  give  us  a  good  luncheon,  a  bowl  of  bishop 
to  wash  it  down  with,  and  we  shall  pick  up  Jem  Powell, 
on  the  road,  who  will  amuse  us  as  we  toddle  along." 

"  Who  is  Jem  Powell  ? "  inquired  Goodall. 

"  I  am  surprised  at  the  question,"  said  Jack  Webber  ; 
"  I  should  just  as  soon  have  expected  a  man  to  ask  who 
is  George  III.  Jem  is  one  of  the  oldest  and  best  coachmen 
on  the  Holyhead  road,  and  a  very  clever  fellow  to  boot. 
Indeed,  he  says  of  himself,  that  if  he  had  had  a  college 
education,  his  place  would  have  been  before  the  bars,  and 
not  behind  them,  by  which  he  means  a  lirst-class  degree." 

"  No  doubt  he  would,"  observed  our  hero  ;  "  for  I  never 
heard  him  express  himself  but  with  point,  on  any  one 
occasion  ;  and  there  is  a  dry  humour  in  his  remarks  that 
gives  them  additional  weight." 

As  the  clock  struck  eleven,  our  party  commenced  their 
drive.  Jack  Webber  on  the  Idox  with  his  host ;  Sir  John 
behind  him  on  the  roof ;  and  the  rest  where  their  fancy 
placed  them  ;  and  this  being  the  first  time  of  Sir  John  see- 
ing his  pupil  at  work  on  his  own  coach,  he  was  not  a  little 
interested  by  the  event.  All  went  well,  however.  Frank 
Eaby  gave  proof  that  he  had  not  lost  sight  of  the  instruc- 
tions he  had  received  from  Jack  Bailey,  when  at  Eton, 
nor  from  himself  during  the  vacations ;  and  he  was  at 
once  pronounced,  both  by  the  Baronet  and  Jack  Webber, 
as  only  requiring  one  more  year's  experience,  to  make 
him  a  first-rate  coachman.  His  hand  on  his  horses  was 
light ;  his  temper  was  not  to  be  rufiled,  although  it  was 
occasionall}'  put  to  the  test,  by  a  wheeler  not  working  to 
please  him  ;  he  descended  rather  a  steep  hill  without 
having  recourse  to  the  skid,  and  yet  with  very  little 
pressure  on  the  wheelers,  and  he  showed  himself  a  judge 
of  pace,  by  keeping  his  time  to  half  a  minute,  having 
allowed  himself  an  hour  and  ten  minutes  to  do  the  twelve 
miles. 

At  the  change — the  well-known  "  Barley  Mow  " — stood 
the  equally  well-known  Jem  Powell,  looking  over  the 
fresh  team,  which  were  standing  in  readiness  at  the  door, 
and  he  thus  saluted  the  party  when  they  pulled  up  : 

"Good  morning  to  ye,  gentlemen;  I  hope  I  sees  you 
all  well.     You  have  a  fine  morning  for  your  drive;  I 


288       THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN 

hopes  we  shall  find  Sir  Harry  well.  He  is  a  worthy- 
gentleman,  and  a  good  friend  to  us  coachmen  ;  and  (look- 
ing at  Sir  John)  here's  another  of  the  same  sort.  I  hears 
of  you,  Sir  John,  and  what  you  are  doing  for  'em  on  the 
north  road.  I  am  told  you  have  made  some  on  'em  mend 
their  ways  already.  And  now  we  are  a-going  to  have 
another  good  gentleman  amongst  us  in  these  parts,  and 
God  be  thanked  for  him — of  course  I  means  the  owner 
of  these  here  horses  ;  but  I  arn't  a-going  to  say  all  I  think 
on  him  before  his  face.  And  sure  enough  here  is  Mr. 
Hargrave  and  Mr.  Webber.  Why,  Mr.  Hargrave,  I 
haven't  seen  you  since  you  was  at  Christchurch,  when 
I  tried  to  make  you  a  coachman,  but  you  was  so  terribly 
fond  of  those  hounds,  there  was  no  making  nothing  on 
you  in  our  line.  As  for  the  other  gentlemen,  I  can't  say 
as  I  knows  them." 

"  Then  I'll  introduce  you  to  them,"  said  Frank  Raby. 
"This  is  Mr.  Houghton,  here  is  Mr.  Goodall,  and  here 
is  Lord  Edmonston  ;  the  two  first-named  gentlemen  you 
must  have  known  before,  Jem,  for  they  were  at  Oxford." 

"  No  doubt,  sir,"  continued  Jem,  "  but  not  in  our  line. 
I  am  glad  to  see  my  Lord ;  I  likes  to  have  a  Lord  about 
my  coach,  it  looks  so  respectable  ;  and  we  have  as  good 
a  one  as  any  in  England  on  our  road,  and  a  brother  to 
one  that  the  world  cannot  beat.  I  believe,  on  my  soul, 
that  he  don't  give  away  less  than  £400  a  year  to 
coachmen  and  guards,  besides  having  several  of  them 
occasionally  at  his  house,  when  they  are  sick." 

"You  mean  the  Hon.  Thomas  Kington,"  said  Jack 
Webber,  shaking  Jem  heartily  by  the  hand;  "he  is 
an  out-and-outer,  as  we  say  of  a  capital  leader,  but  only 
think  of  his  being  the  son  of  a  judge  !  " 

"  He  is  as  good  a  judge  in  our  line,  as  his  father  ever 
was  in  his,"  said  Jem  ;  "  I  don't  think  there  is  a  steadier, 
better  coachman  in  England  than  his  Honour  is." 

"  I  have  heard  a  great  deal  of  Mr.  Kington,"  said  Lord 
Edmonston,  "  but  I  never  chanced  to  come  across  him." 

"  Then,  my  Lord,"  replied  Jem,  "  as  the  horses  are  put 
to,  I  haven't  time  to  tell  you  half  I  knows  of  him,  now, 
but  as  we  goes  along,  I'll  let  you  a  bit  into  his  history." 

"  Are  you  all  right  1 "  cried  Frank  Raby,  when  he  had 
seated  himself  comfortably  on  his  box  ;  and  on  the  answer 
in  the  aifirmative  being  given,  away  went  the  team,  the 
skewbald  leader  taking  to  his   collar  without  a  single 


THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN        289 

plunge,  working  admirably  througliout,  with  the  privilege 
of  having  the  bar. 

"  Well,"  said  Jem  ;  "  a  prettier  team  than  this  no  man 
would  wish  to  sit  behind." 

"  And  well  turned  out,  eh,  Jem  1 "  said  Webber. 

"  And  well  handled,  too,"  remarked  Sir  John. 

Jem  nodded  assent — merely  observing  that  he  should 
be  a  better  judge  of  that  when  they  got  to  the  top  of  a 
hill  which  was  before  them,  nearly  a  mile  long. 

"  But,"  resumed  Jem,  "  I  was  a-going  to  tell  you  about 
that  there  Mr.  Kington — His  Honour,  as  the  coachmen 
and  guards  all  calls  him  on  this  road,  and  most  others. 
Do  you  know,  he  works  almost  as  regular  as  we  poor 
servants  do,  keeping  fourteen  coach-horses  in  full  employ. 
He  drives  to  his  country  town,  fifteen  miles  from  his 
house,  and  back,  four  days  in  the  week,  and  on  some 
other  road  the  other  two,  but,  like  me,  he  lays  rest  on 
a  Sunday  ;  that  is  to  say,  he  only  puts  to  a  pair,  and 
drives  his  family  to  church.  They  tells  me  there  is  not 
a  poor  man  in  distress  in  his  parish,  he  is  so  kind  to  them 
all ;  and  as  to  coachmen  and  guards,  he  has  saved  many 
of  their  souls  as  well  as  their  bodies." 

"What  do  you  mean  by  saving  their  bodies?"  asked 
Lord  Edmonston. 

"  Why,  my  Lord,"  replied  Jem,  "  he  saves  'em  in  two 
ways.  First,  although  all  the  coachmen  and  guards 
which  pass  through  his  village  have  a  glass  of  good  ale, 
at  the  public,  chalked  up  to  his  Honour,  he  advises  them 
not  to  drink  spirits,  nor  too  much  of  anything.  Then, 
again,  if  any  of  them  meet  with  an  accident,  or  are  sick, 
or  want  a  week's  rest,  his  servants'  hall  and  a  good  bed 
are  open  to  them,  till  such  times  as  they  recover.  His 
Honour  would  have  made  the  best  mail-coachman  in 
England,  for  he  keeps  such  capital  time,  even  with  his 
own  coach.  He  won't  wait  a  moment  for  nobody  when 
his  time  is  up  ;  and  do  you  know,  my  Lord,  he  once  left 
his  lady  behind,  to  come  home  in  a  post-chaise,  because 
she  warn't  to  the  time  at  the  inn  from  which  he  starts. 
That's  what  I  call  being  punctual.  Then  he  goes  through 
all  the  manoeuvres  that  we  regular  coachmen  go  through. 
When  he  drives  into  the  yard,  he  walks  into  the  office, 
hangs  up  his  coat  and  whip,  takes  off  his  knee-caps  and 
shawl,  and  then  (what  we  can't  do)  walks  out  like  a 
gentleman." 

19 


2go       THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN 

At  this  moment  a  gentleman  in  black  trotted  past  the 
coach,  and  on  its  being  remarked  by  our  hero,  that  Jem 
made  him  a  most  respectful  salutation,  he  asked  him  his 
name. 

"  His  name,  sir  !  "  answered  Jem  ;  "  why  I  thought 
everybody  knew  Parson  Smith — the  cleverest  parson  in 
the  county.  They  tells  me  that  when  he  preaches  the 
church  is  as  full  as  a  cock-pit." 

"  By  the  simile  you  have  used,"  observed  Lord 
Edmonston,  "I  presume  you  are  given  to  cock-fighting.'* 

"  Have  been  so,  in  a  small  way,  all  my  life,  my  Lord," 
rej^lied  Jem.  "  And  when  we  gets  to  Sir  Harry's,  he  will 
show  you,  if  you  ask  him,  the  picture  of  a  favourite  cock 
of  mine,  that  won  me  six  battles.  It  is  painted  on  the 
dial-plate  of  a  watch  I  gave  the  Baronet  soon  after  he  left 
college  ;  and  there  are  also  pictures  of  a  race-horse,  a 
bull- dog,  and  a  greyhound  on  it,  with  my  own  ugly  face 
in  the  centre." 

A  good  laugh,  of  course,  followed  this  episode  of  Jem's, 
and,  when  it  ceased.  Lord  Edmonston  told  him  he  was 
sorry  to  hear  he  was  fond  of  so  cruel  a  sport  as  cock- 
fighting.  "  My  friend,  Mr.  Baby,  had  a  turn  that  way,'^ 
said  his  Lordship,  "but  I  am  happy  to  say  he  now  flies  at 
nobler  game." 

"  Why,  my  Lord,"  said  Jem,  "  I  much  fear  there  are  no 
sports  which  you  gentlemen  takes  delight  in,  that  are  not 
more  or  less  cruel.  I  thinks  as  how  I  should  have  given 
up  cock-fighting,  had  not  a  very  clever  gentleman  of  our 
Univei*sity  made  me  believe  it  is  not  at  all  cruel." 

"  Do  5^ou  recollect  what  arguments  he  made  use  of  1 " 
inquired  Hargrave. 

"  Why,"  answered  Jem,  "  if  you  can  take  them  in  my 
homely  language,  they  were  much  after  this  fashion.  He 
said  he  did  not  think  cock-fighting  equal  as  to  cruelty  to 
horse-racing,  in  which  poor  animals  are  forced,  against 
their  nature,  to  performances  beyond  their  strength,  with 
whips  and  spurs,  which  jockeys  call  cutting  up.  And  this 
novj  happens  only  a  few  months  arter  the  poor  sufferer 
has  been  taken  from  the  side  of  its  dam.  But  in  the 
fighting  of  game-cocks  the  case  is  different ;  for  instead  of 
a  force  against  nature,  it  is  an  indulgence  of  nature." 

"  Of  natural  propensities,  you  mean,  Jem,"  said  Frank 
Baby. 

"  i  shouldn't  wonder,"  resumed  Jem  ;  "  but  this  is  my 


THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN        291 

climisy  ^vay  of  telling  the  story.  '  Cocks  at  tlieir  walks/ 
he  said, '  and  at  full  liberty,  will  seek  each  other  for  battle, 
as  far  as  they  can  hear  each  other's  crowing,  and  the 
putting  S23urs  on  their  heels,  when  brought  into  the  pit  to- 
fight,  is  quite  contrary  to  cruelty,  for  the  battle  is  sooner 
over,  and  what  they  suffer  is  nothing,  or  next  to  nothing, 
to  what  they  would  suffer,  were  they  to  fight  with  their 
own  natural  heels,  bruising  each  other  in  every  tender 
part — killing  each  other,  in  short,  by  inches.  Then  here,'' 
he  said,  'is  the  comparison  between  the  man  who  fights  ai 
duel,  and  him  who  fights  for  money  in  the  ring.  The 
one  meets  his  man  like  the  game-cock,  of  his  own  free 
will,  and  with  artificial  weapons  ;  but  the  other  is  made 
to  fight  merely  for  the  sake  of  money,  and  as  he  fights- 
with  natural  weapons,  he  receives  blows  and  bruises, 
almost  to  the  point  of  death,  just  to  amuse  idle  lookers-on, 
and  for  the  purpose  of  gambling  on  the  event.' " 

"  Did  your  friend  say  anything  about  hunting  ? "  asked 
Hargrave. 

"Yes,  Mr.  Hargrave,"  replied  Jem,  "he  compared  it  in 
one  way  to  cock-fighting.  'Hounds  and  greyhounds/ 
said  he,  'are  formed  for  the  pursuit  of  their  respective 
game  ;  they  are  guided  by  nature.'  " 

"  By  natural  instinct,  you  mean,  Jem,"  interrupted 
Hargrave. 

"  Just  so,"  said  Jem  ;  "  they  acts  of  their  own  accord,  he 
told  me  ;  the  whole  is  an  indulgence  of  their  natural 
propensities,  as  you  call  'em." 

"  But  the  game  they  hunt,  what  did  he  say  of  it  ?  "^ 
continued  Hargrave. 

"Well,  to  be  sure,"  replied  Jem,  "he  said  it  must  be 
anything  but  comfortable  when  the  dogs  are  pursuing  it, 
but  its  fate  is  soon  settled,  and  there  is  no  dying  of 
wounds,  as  there  is  from  shooting  and  fishing." 

"  But  the  very  fact  of  the  game-cock  being  the  noble 
animal  he  is,"  said  Lord  Edmonston,  "  is  the  reason  why 
he  should  be  restrained  from  fighting  without  a  natural 
cause." 

"Man  may  be  considered  as  the  delegate  of  Heaven 
over  inferior  creatures,  but  he  has  no  right  to  torment 
them  unnecessarily.  Then  observe  the  character  of  the 
cock,  as  he  claps  his  wings  before  he  crows ;  how  proud, 
how  courageous  is  his  appearance  !  The  very  lion  himself 
is  said  to  fear  him.     At  all  events,  his  graceful  attitude 


292        THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN 

and  carriage,  together  with  his  high-beaming  eye,  rank 
him  in  the  highest  class  of  birds." 

"  All  very  true,"  said  Hargrave  ;  "  but  without  defend- 
ing cock-fighting,  will  you  show  me  the  man  who  can 
account  for  that  early  instinct  which  impresses  young 
animals  M'ith  the  notion  of  the  situation  and  use  of  their 
natural  weapons,  and  of  even  using  them  before  they  are 
properly  formed,  and  at  the  same  time  can  say,  that  the 
display  of  this  instinct  was  not  given  them  for  some  good 
purpose?  I  can  only  observe  that  the  science  of  cock- 
fighting,  if  I  may  be  allowed  to  call  it  so,  is  one  of  the 
most  difficult,  if  not  the  most  extraordinary  of  any 
connected  with  the  animal  system.  Training  the  race- 
horse is  A  B  C  to  it.  Fancy  an  experienced  feeder  being 
able  to  discern  to  a  nicety  to  what  extent  cocks  of  one 
particular  breed  will  bear  reducing  in  weight,  and  w^hat 
those  of  another.  Then  one  man  shall  make  his  cocks 
fight  for  three  consecutive  days  with  equal  strength  and 
spirit,  whereas  his  competitor  cannot  keep  his  up  to  the 
mark  beyond  the  second  day.  He  will  be  at  the  height 
of  condition  one  day,  and  retrograde  rapidly  the  next. 
Again,  what  a  strange  phenomenon  is  this  : — cocks,  of 
the  same  blood,  bred  from  a  father  and  daughter,  will 
run  away,  whilst  those  from  a  mother  and  son  will  stay  to 
be  killed  piecemeal,  and  vice  versa  !  Lastly,  their  colour  ; 
how  true  to  their  feather  are  they  preserved  by  the  most 
eminent  breeders — without  the  slightest  deviation,  indeed, 
for  a  great  number  of  generations  !  There  is  a  well- 
attested  instance  of  this  on  record.  An  eminent  breeder 
of  game-fowls  had  preserved  an  invariable  production  of 
what  are  called  black-breasted  reds  during  fifteen  years, 
but  in  the  sixteenth  he  had  several  light  piles  in  one 
hatch,  or  brood.  No  change  of  eggs  could  have  taken  'place, 
nor  was  there  a  possibility  of  the  access  of  any  other  cock 
to  his  hens.  On  looking  back,  however,  he  ascertained 
that,  five  years  previously  to  his  having  his  original 
breed  out  of  Shropshire,  there  had  been  a  cross  of  a 
Cheshire  pile  in  the  hens.  Thus,  it  appears,  the  plumage 
had  remained  perfect  for  twenty-one  years." 

"A  most  singular  fact,  undoubtedly,"  said  Lord 
Edmonston,  "  but  I  understand  the  same  phenomenon 
occasionally  occurs  in  horses.  I  am  told,  that  not  only 
does  the  colour  often  go  back  to  a  very  distant  cross,  but 
that  a  small  dark-coloured  spot  on  the  hinder  quarters  of 


THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN        293 

Eclipse  is,  to  this  day,  entailed  on  some  of  his  blood, 
although  distant  several  generations  from  the  original." 

"  Similar  phenomena,"  observed  Houghton,  "  are  observ- 
able in  flowers.  What  florists  call  '  a  run  flower,'  is  one 
which  has  the  inherent  vice  of  changing  colour,  with 
little  chance  of  regaining  its  primitive  and  valuable 
brilliancy.  In  a  perfect  flower,  every  leaf  should  be 
striped  according  to  its  class,  whether  flake  or  bizarre." 

"Well,"  said  Jem,  "I  cannot  talk  with  you  gentlemen 
on  these  matters  —  because  why,  you  know,  I  am  no 
scholard,  but  there  is  one  point  you  haven't  touched  upon, 
concerning  cock-fighting.  Mr.  Hargrave  here  will  tell 
you — for  I  have  often  seen  him  in  a  cock -pit — that  cocks 
show  as  much  skill,  in  defence  and  attack,  as  the  best 
prize-fighters  of  the  day,  and,  like  them,  their  blows  have 
more  or  less  force,  according  to  their  better  skill.  If  a 
cock's  legs  are  out  of  the  direction  of  his  body,  we  call 
him  a  dry-spurred  or  dry-heeled  cock,  because  he  can't 
hit  to  do  much  harm.  He  seldom  carries  death  with  his 
heels.  On  the  contrary,  if  his  legs  are  in  a  proper  direc- 
tion with  his  body,  he  stands  erect,  rises  high,  is  a  close 
hitter,  and  generally  wins  his  battle,  and  in  a  short  time 
too.  Oh  !  it  is  a  fine  sight  to  see  a  set-to  between  two 
such  cocks  as  this,  and  I  wish  I  was  sure  it  warn't  cruel." 

"As  for  that,  Jem,"  said  Hargrave,  "I  fear  we  cannot 
divest  it  of  a  certain  portion  of  cruelty.  Although,  to  a 
thinking  mind,  nothing  is  more  astounding  than  that 
early  instinct  which  impresses  young  animals  with  the 
notion  of  the  situation  of  their  natural  weapons,  in  the 
first  place,  and,  in  the  next,  of  using  them,  even  before 
they  are  properly  formed — for  a  young  cock  will  spur  at 
his  adversary  before  his  spurs  are  grown  out,  and  a  calf, 
or  lamb,  will  push  or  butt  with  their  heads  before  their 
horns  are  sprouted — I  fear  we  have  no  right  wantonly  to 
expose  one  animal  to  the  fury  of  another.  But  so  it  will 
be  to  the  end  of  time.  That  perfect  calm,  that  uninter- 
rupted felicity  which  some  persons  would  wish  to  in- 
troduce into  the  world,  is  but  a  chimera — a  beautiful  one, 
I  allow — but  only  appearing  possible  to  those  who  judge 
of  things  according  to  their  imagination  alone  ;  '  since 
everyone  who  forms  a  cool  judgment  on  the  subject  will 
see  that  the  earth  was  never  designed  for  such  a  state." 

"I  do  not  quite  agree  with  you,  Hargrave,"  observed 
Lord  Edmonston  ;  "  I  think " 


294       THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN 

"  Beg  pardon,  my  Lord,  for  interrupting  you,"  said  Jem  ; 
and,  touching  our  hero  on  the  shoulder,  thus  quaintly 
addressed  him:  "Beg  pardon,  Mr.  Baby,  but  1  should 
like  to  hear  your  bars  rattle  a  little  down  this  next  hill. 
Excuse  me,  sir,  but,  on  the  last,  you  committed  a  fault 
which  most  young  coachmen  commit  —  you  let  your 
leaders  draiv,  which  of  course  makes  it  worse  for  your 
wheelers.  Always  let  your  bars  rattle  a  little,  going 
down  hill." 

"  That  near  leader  over-pulls  me,"  said  Frank. 

"  I  observe  he  does,"  replied  Jem  ;  "  pull  his  rein  three 
inches  through  your  hand,  and  gripe  it  tightly  with  your 
thumb  ;  and  when  your  horses  are  on  their  collars,  keep 
your  wheelers  up  to  him,  and  he  will  not  pull  you  so 
much.  But  I'll  alter  his  coupling-rein  for  you  when  we 
get  to  Sir  Harry's." 

"  That's  right,  Jem,"  said  Hargrave,  "  let  us  have  no 
more  cocking  at  present ;  give  us  something  on  the 
road." 

"  A  little  of  your  history,"  added  Lord  Edmonston. 

"  Why  that  will  be  rather  a  longish  story,  my  Lord," 
replied  Jem ;  "  I  think  we  had  better  leave  it  till  we  are 
on  the  road  homewards.  A  little  of  Sir  Harry's  beef,  and 
a  glass  or  two  of  his  good  ale,  will  make  my  tongue  run 
more  glib." 

"  Like  a  newly-greased  wheel — eh,  Jem  ? "  said  Jack 
Webber. 

Arrived  at  Townley  Park,  they  found  the  worthy 
Baronet  expecting  them,  and  with  a  really  good  luncheon 
on  his  dinner-table  ;  for  which  a  twenty-four  miles'  ride 
through  the  balmy  air  of  a  spring  morning,  added  to  the 
cheerful  talk  on  the  road,  had  given  them  a  keen  ajDpe- 
tite.  And  by  rather  a  curious  coincidence,  at  the  very 
moment  in  which  they  drove  up  to  the  door,  another 
coach  was  to  be  seen  at  the  farther  end  of  the  park,  in 
which  were  four  strapping  brown  horses,  trotting  away  at 
the  rate  of,  at  least,  twelve  miles  in  the  hour,  with  apparent 
ease  to  themselves,  and  in  the  hands  of  a  perfect  master  of 
his  art.  This  proved  to  be  the  splendid  turn-out  of  Mr. 
Herson,  a  neighbour  of  Sir  Harry's,  who  chanced  to  call 
on  him  at  that  hour  ;  and  when  it  is  stated  that  he  gave 
400  guineas  for  the  leaders  which  he  had  this  day  at  work, 
their  fine  appearance  and  paces  can  be  very  readily 
accounted  for.     But  to  the  arrival  of  our  hero  and  his 


THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN        295 

party,  which  we  will  relate  in  the  dialogical  form,  as 
saving  some  trouble  : — 

Sir  Harry.  "Glad  to  see  you  on  your  own  box,  Eaby  ; 
when  you  were  last  on  mine,  I  thought  you  would  not  be 
long  before  you  got  to  work.  The  old  uncle  cut  up  well, 
I  find,  and  1  rejoice  to  think  that  you  have  settled  so  near 
me,  and  on  so  good  a  road.  How  d'ye  do,  Inkleton  1 
What,  Jack  Webl^er  ! — are  you  there,  with  your  round 
a,nd  rosy  face  ?  I  suppose  you  are  giving  the  young  one 
some  instructions.  But  there  is  old  Jem  Powell  there,  I 
see  ;  I  beg  his  pardon,  a  thousand  times,  for  sui3posing 
any  man  could  act  the  schoolmaster  in  his  -presence.  Glad 
to  see  you,  Jem  ;  how  smart  you  are  to-day  !  And 
Hargrave — delighted  to  see  you  ;  you  are  one  quite  after 
my  own  heart — fond  of  the  box  and  hounds — a  right 
good  sportsman,  and  the  best  man  out  of  Christchurch, 
in  your  time,  on  the  pigskin." 

Frank  Rahy.  "I  believe.  Sir  Harry,  I  have  three 
friends  here  to  whom  you  are  not  known.  Allow  me  to 
introduce  to  you  Lord  Edmonston,  a  most  particular  friend 
of  mine,  although  not  one  of  the  best  on  the  pigskin  ;  also 
Mr.  Goodall  and  Mr.  Houghton,  both  Christchurch  men, 
not  much  in  our  line  at  present,  but  first-class  men  in 
another." 

Sir  Harry.  "  Happy  to  see  you  all.  Now  let  Jem  take 
your  coach  into  the  yard,  and  himself  into  the  servants' 
hall ;  a  bit  of  venison  pasty  will  do  you  all  no  harm  after 
your  drive,  and  I  have  ordered  a  good  bowl  of  '  l)ishop.' 
But  here  is  Herson  coming ;  you  will  now  see  the  best 
and  fastest  team,  this  day,  in  England ;  and  so  they 
ought  to  be,  for  he  has  not  a  horse  in  his  coach-stable 
that  cost  him  less  than  a  hundred,  and  he  gave  two 
hundred  a-piece  for  the  leaders  he  has  in  to-day.  I  know 
them  at  this  distance,  by  their  action." 

Five  minutes,  or  less,  brought  this  splendid  team  to  the 
door.  To  some  of  this  party  Mr.  Herson  and  his  friends 
were  known,  and  the  usual  introduction  to  the  others 
being  soon  concluded,  luncheon  was  the  order  of  the  day, 
and  ample  justice  was  done  to  it — by  the  Farndon  party, 
especially.  A  walk  to  the  stable-yard  followed,  which 
may  be  said  to  have  been  a  matter  of  course,  from  the 
nature  of  the  parties  assembled,  and  the  prevailing 
similarity  of  their  tastes.  The  following  may  be  relied 
jipon  for  its  contents  : —    . 


296       THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN 

In  the  hvinters'  stables  were  seven  first-rate  horses,  but 
not  looking  to  advantage,  being  stripped  of  their  clothing, 
and,  in  the  language  of  the  grooms  of  that  day,  "  put  out 
of  condition,"  previously  to  being  turned  out  for  the 
summer,  the  Baronet  not  having  quite  relinquished  the 
grazing  sytsem,  although  his  stud  remained  abroad  for  a 
much  less  time  than  that  of  his  neighbour  did,  and  were 
allowed  a  certain  portion  of  corn.  They  appeared  to  our 
hero  to  be  just  the  sort  of  horses  to  carry  thirteen  stone, 
which  they  did  carry,  whilst  under  their  owner,  let  the 
country  or  pace  be  what  they  may.  In  short,  they  were 
ridden  by  one  of  the  first  horsemen  England  ever  saw. 
Amongst  them  was  Watchmaker,  the  Baronet's  favourite 
horse,  and  of  which  we  have  already  spoken  as  having 
signalized  himself  on  the  BoswoHh  day,  in  one  instance ; 
in  the  struggle  between  the  orange  and  red,  in  another ; 
and  also  as  having  been  depictured  in  the  "  Sporting 
Magazine,"  in  the  act  of  taking  a  desperate  leap,  and 
setting  the  whole  field.  He  was  a  grey  gelding,  sixteen 
hands  high,  of  singularly  fine  form,  and  a  delightful  horse 
to  ride  over  every  description  of  ground. 

The  next  thing  that  attracted  the  eye  of  the  party  was 
the  Baronet's  driving  coach,  which  stood  in  the  yard,  with 
the  bars  on  the  head  of  the  pole,  great-coats  on  the  box, 
and  behind  ;  lamps  in  the  irons,  with  the  slides  down,  but 
fresh  trimmed — everything,  in  short,  ready  for  a  start. 
The  fact  was,  the  Baronet  was  going  to  dine  with  a  friend, 
residing  about  twelve  miles  distant  from  Townley,  with 
the  intention  of  returning  at  night.  The  coach-stable  was 
then  entered,  and  a  gratifying  sight  was  presented  to 
by  far  the  majority  of  the  party.  It  contained  thirteen 
coach-horses,  not,  perhaps,  remarkable  for  their  fine 
figures,  but  coming  under  the  denomination  of  very  useful 
horses  for  road  work,  of  which  they  had  no  small  share, 
scarcely  a  day  passing,  in  the  summer,  but  they  took  their 
turns  in  harness  ;  and  when  the  locality  of  the  fixture 
suited  for  wheels,  they  were  generally  seen  at  the  cover's 
side  in  the  winter.  The  colour  was  grey,  with  the 
exception  of  one  piebald,  but  the  Baronet  was  not  partial 
to  piebalds,  having,  for  the  most  part,  found  them  soft, 
and  not  strong  in  their  harness.  Lastly,  the  harness-room 
was  greatly  admired,  not  only  for  the  cleanliness  of  the 
tackle,  but  for  the  real  business-like  appearance  of 
everything  which  it  contained.     Among  the  items  were, 


THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN        297 

three  sets  of  road  harness  ;  two  sets  for  a  pair  ;  two  for 
the  break  ;  two  of  single  harness  ;  three  pairs  of  lamps  ; 
four  sets  of  bars  ;  two  tool  boxes,  complete  ;  three  skids, 
and  two  drag-chains  ;  seven  box  coats  (besides  those  on 
the  coach  in  the  yard),  and  seventeen  whips,  some  of 
them  having  the  appearance  of  not  being  made  yesterday. 
Then  an  interesting  spectacle  followed.  At  a  given 
moment  —  the  party  having  returned  to  the  house  to 
finish  the  bowl  of  "bishop" — the  three  teams  came  to  the 
door,  taking  a  sweep  round  the  large  grass  plot  in  front 
of  the  hall  door,  which  set  them  off  to  advantage.  The 
Baronet's  led  the  way,  driven  by  his  head  coachman,  and 
followed  by  that  of  Mr.  Herson,  driven  also  by  his  ;  whilst 
Jem  Powell  brought  up  our  hero's  in  equally  good  style. 
As  may  be  supposed,  they  became  the  subject  of  remark, 
but  the  preference,  as  to  horses,  was  unanimously  given 
to  that  of  Mr.  Herson  ;  and  deservedly  so,  no  doubt.  In 
the  first  place,  the  prices  given  for  them  entitled  them  to 
be  first-rate;  in  the  next,  they  were  nearly  thorough- 
bred ;  and  lastly,  they  were  as  fresh  on  their  legs  as  when 
they  first  felt  the  rein,  which  could  not  be  said  of  the  two 
other  teams,  some  of  each  of  which  showed  marks  of 
something  beyond  what  is  called  gentleman's  work. 

Having  taken  leave  of  their  host,  who  expressed  him- 
self much  pleased  with  our  young  sportsman's  turn-out, 
as  well  as  the  coachmanlike  style  in  which  he  approached 
the  house  on  his  arrival,  they  pursued  their  road  home- 
ward, allowing  themselves  the  same  length  of  time  to 
perform  the  twenty- four  miles  of  ground. 

"  Now,  Jem,"  said  Jack  Webber,  after  passing  the  park 
gates,  "let  us  have  a  little  of  your  history.  By  the 
colour  on  your  cheeks,  you  appear  to  be  alf  the  better 
for  the  Baronet's  good  cheer,  and,  as  I  said  before,  your 
tongue  will  slip  over  the  ground  like  a  newly-greased 
wheel." 

"My  history,"  said  Jem,  "is  told  in  a  few  words.  I 
have  been  a  road  coachman  these  three-and-thirty  years, 
and  never  lay  rest,  thank  God,  more  than  a  dozen 
journeys  in  all  that  time,  except  when  I  broke  my  leg, 
and  had  my  right  foot  frost-bitten.  Then  I  had — like 
you  gentlemen,  who  goes  to  school  and  college  to  fit  you 
for  your  situations — the  regular  education  of  a  coachman. 
I  did  not  jump  from  off  some  country  gentleman's  pair- 
orse  coach-box,  or  from  behind  a  counter  in  a  coach-ofiice, 


agS        THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN 

or,  perhaps,  that  of  a  grocer's  shop,  on  to  a  stage-coach,  as 
some  of  our  present  would-be  coachmen  have  done,  and 
who  hardly  knows  a  coupling- rein  from  a  bearing- rein, 
still  less  what  a  horse  can  do  in  his  harness  ;  but  I  began 
my  education  by  riding  the  leaders  before  my  father,  on 
the  heavy  Brummagem,  for  better  than  three  years. 
Thafs  the  -place  for  a  young  man  to  learn  his  business — 
before  a  good  coachman,  as  my  father  was,  and  a  coach 
that  carries  three  ton  weight,  as  that  often  did,  in  roads 
over  the  fellies  of  the  wheels,  and  none  of  the  best  of 
cattle.  Then,  I  have  never  had  but  one  master  and  one 
coach  since  I  have  been  regular  at  work,  now  going  on  for 
thirty-four  years." 

"  Are  you  married  ? "  asked  Lord  Edmonston. 

"  No,  my  Lord,"  replied  Jem  ;  "  I  was  near  being  had 
•once,  but  I  slij)ped  out  on't,  and  took  care  never  to  run 
my  head  into  that  there  collar  again  ;  I  feared  it  might 
prove  what  we  calls  '  a  false  one.'  " 

"But  what  has  been  your  objection  to  the  married 
state  ? "  resumed  Lord  Edmonston. 

"  Why,  to  tell  you  the  truth,  my  Lord,"  answered  Jem, 
"  I  have  more  than  one  objection  to  it.  In  the  first  place, 
a  gentleman  who  sat  by  me  on  the  box,  many  years  ago, 
made  use  of  these  words  to  a  passenger  who  sat  behind 
liim  on  the  roof,  and  they  made  such  an  impression  on  me 
that,  if  I  was  to  live  a  thousand  years,  I  should  never 
forget  them  : — '  The  ancients,'  he  said,  'are  clearly  against 
the  female  sex,  and  the  moderns  are  not  very  favourably 
disposed  towards  them,  from  all  I  have  read  of  them.' 
Now,  thinks  I  to  myself,  surely  both  ancients  and 
moderns  can't  be  wrong  on  this  here  matter ;  but  as 
neither  seems  to  have  a  favourable  opinion  of  woman- 
kind, I  thought  I  had  best  leave  them  alone.  And  it  was 
.a  very  clever  man  who  spoke  this  in  my  hearing." 

"  Some  rum  old  fellow  of  a  college,  I'll  be  bound  for  it," 
fiaid  Jack  Webber,  "who  would  not  have  given  up  his 
•common  room  comforts,  and  his  old  port  wine,  for  the 
iinest  woman  in  England." 

"  No,  he  warn't,"  resumed  Jem  ;  "  but  I  ain't  told  you 
my  other  reason.  I  daresay  there  is  much  pleasure  in  the 
married  life,  but  I  am  quite  certain  there  is  also  much 
pain.  What  scenes  have  I  witnessed  amongst  husbands 
and  wives,  and  parents  and  children,  since  I  have  drove 
this  coach — I  mean  when  taking  leave  of  each  other  !     I 


THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN        299 

have  seen  two  or  three  rascals  a-going  to  be  hanged,  but 
I  never  saw  them  half  so  cast  down  as  I  have  seen 
passengers  on  my  coach,  when  leaving  their  families 
behind  them  —  ferha^s  for  ever!  I  have  heard  them 
bellowing  and  crying  for  the  first  two  stages,  and  they 
wouldn't  take  no  comfort.  My  very  heart  has  bled  for 
them." 

"  You  must  be  rich,  Jem,"  observed  Lord  Edmonston. 

"  No,  I  arn't  rich,  my  Lord,"  replied  Jem  ;  "  not  but 
what,  if  I  was  to  leave  the  coach  to-morrow,  I  should  have 
enough  to  keep  me — just  able  to  make  tongue  and  buckle 
meet." 

"  But  what  have  you  done  with  your  money,  Jem,  eh  ? " 
said  Jack  Webber  ;  "  two  coaches  a  day,  and  no  one  to 
look  after  you  !  Something  for  the  shirt  pocket,  every 
day,  eh,  Jem  ? " 

"  Why,"  replied  Jem,  "  I  am  not  a-going  to  boast  that 
I  am  honester  than  other  folks  ;  my  having  served  one 
master  three-and- thirty  years  will  best  speak  to  that 
point ;  but  I  have  been  a  good  friend  to  my  poor  brother's 
widow  and  children.  He  was  killed  last  Christmas-day 
thirteen  years,  on  the  Worcester  mail,  and  I  have  sup- 
ported his  family  ever  since.  Poor  fellow,  he  was  one  of 
the  nicest  light  coachmen  you  ever  saw  on  a  coach-box  ; 
and  I  hope,  one  day  or  another,  his  eldest  boy  will  have 
my  place." 

"  What  you  have  told  us  is  much  to  your  credit,"  said 
Frank  Eaby,  "  and  it  is  no  wonder  that  you  have  so  many 
friends." 

"  I  have  many  kind  friends,  indeed,"  replied  Jem  ; 
"  only  think  of  Squire  Amstey  keeping  a  horse  for  me  at 
Oxford,  all  the  summer  months,  on  purpose  for  me  to 
ride  out  after  I  come  in  with  my  coach ;  and  I  have  a 
good  dinner  at  his  house  every  Sunday  in  the  year,  if  I 
like  to  go  for  it." 

"  Then  you  don't  drive  on  Sundays  1 "  observ^ed 
Goodall. 

"  No,"  replied  Jem  ;  "  I  would  not  work  on  a  Sunday 
for  any  man  ;  it's  like  leading  the  life  of  a  nigger.  I 
generally  goes  to  church  in  the  morning,  and  to  the 
Squire's  in  the  evening." 

"  No  alehouse  work,"  observed  Lord  Edmonston. 

"  I  smokes  one  pipe,  and  drinks  a  pint  of  ale,  every 
-Bvening  at  the  '  Black  Dog,'  after  I  have  had  my  dinner. 


300       THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN 

I  am  no  drinker,  nor  would  I  advise  any  coachman  to  be 
such,  particularly  one  that  drives  over  such  cold  ground 
as  I  do.  All  I  have  on  the  road  is  half  a  pint  of  ale, 
with  my  lunch,  where  I  meets  my  coach,  and  then  I  enjoy 
my  dinner  when  I  gets  in.  Indeed,  I  often  say  to  myself, 
when  returning  over  those  cold  hills  : — '  Oh,  how  I  could 
set-to  now,  at  a  good  rump-steak  and  onions  ! ' " 

"I  have  always  thought,"  observed  Lord  Edmonston, 
"  that  road  coachmen  must  obtain  a  great  knowledge 
of  mankind  from  their  everyday  communication  with 
persons  of  all  descriptions,  and  nearly  from  all  countries." 

"Why,  my  Lord,"  said  Jem,  "we  meets  with  all  sorts 
— good,  bad,  and  indifferent — and  especially  on  this  road. 
We  carries  a  great  many  Irish." 

"  And  how  do  you  find  them  ? "  asked  Jack  Webber. 

"  There  are  many  good  ones  amongst  them,  but  still 
more  good  for  nothing,"  was  the  answer  ;  "  but,  saving 
your  presence,  gentlemen,  they  are  all  devils  to  brag.  I 
never  carried  one,  calling  himself  a  gentleman^  that  had  less 
than  £1500  a  year." 

"  And  a  park  ?  "  said  Eaby. 

"  A  park,  of  course,"  resumed  Jem ;  "  and  many  on 
them  talk  of  their  castles — in  the  air,  I  suppose.  But  I 
could  not  help  thinking  that  they  must  often  get  pulled 
up,  when  talking  so  big.  Indeed,  I  pulled  up  one  of 
them  myself,  last  summer.  He  asked  me  who  lived  at 
Warton  House,  on  our  road.  I  told  him  the  Earl  of 
Connell — my  kind  friend,  as  you  have  heard  me  speak  of, 
Mr.  Eaby.  '  By  the  powers  ! '  said  he,  '  but  I  know  his 
Lordship  well  ;  he  comes  from  my  own  country.  How 
I  should  like  to  stop  and  ask  him  how  he  does  ! '  Now, 
as  to  that  part  of  the  story,  you  know  it  was  quite  out  of 
the  question,  as  the  hall  is  nearly  a  mile  from  the  road  ; 
but,  as  ill-luck  for  the  Irishman  would  have  it,  we  had 
not  gone  far  before  we  meets  my  Lord,  who  pulls  up  his 
horse  and  gives  me  a  letter  to  take  to  a  friend  of  his  in 
Oxford.  'Who  is  that  gentleman?'  said  the  Irishman, 
as  soon  as  the  coach  went  on.  '  That  nohleman,  sir,'  said 
I,  'is  the  Earl  of  Connell.'  Now,  I  says  nothing  more 
on  the  subject  for  as  much  as  a  quarter  oi  an  hour,  giving 
the  gentleman  time  to  recover  himself  a  little,  for  he 
looked  mighty  simple  after  the  answer  I  gave  him  about 
his  ^friend  ; '  but,  at  last,  I  turns  myself  a  little  towards 
him  on  the  box,  and   looking  full  in  his  face,  says^ 


THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN        301 

*Why,  sir,  you  seems  very  intimate  with  that  there 
Lord.'  » 

"  Capital! "  exclaimed  Lord  Edmonston  ;  "  Junius  him- 
self never  gave  a  man  a  more  severe  rebuke.  Let  me 
ask  you  a  question.  From  your  constant  observation  of 
character,  are  you  able  to  distinguish  beforehand  the 
persons  from  whom  you  are  likely  to  be  best  remunerated 
for  your  trouble — at  all  events,  those  who  will  do  you 
justice,  by  giving  you  the  customary  fee?  " 

"There  are  but  three  descriptions  of  passengers," 
replied  Jem,  "  who  pay  more  than  the  accustomed  fee, 
and  those  are  very  soon  picked  out.  There  is,  first,  the 
gentleman  who  not  only  bespeaks  the  box  place,  but  who 
asks  questions  about  the  horses,  &c.  ;  he  is  sure  to  come 
the  double  tip.  Next,  is  the  quiet,  gentlemanlike-looking 
passenger,  with  a  good  collar  to  his  coat,  who  merely  asks 
a  few  questions  about  the  places  we  pass  by  on  the  road, 
and  who  has  a  good-sized  black  portmanteau  about  the 
coach.  We  are  pretty  sure  of  him.  But  the  best 
customer  of  all  is  the  just  paid-off  sailor,  three  parts 
drunk.  I  have  often  had  a  croion  put  into  my  hands  by 
one  of  those  chaps,  and  once  half  a  guinea,  which  I 
refused.  '  Why,  you  lubberly  land  lubber,'  said  he,  '  if  I 
don't  give  it  to  you,  I  shall  give  it  to  the  next  that  steers 
us  ;  put  it  into  your  locker,  and  be  thankful.'  " 

"  How  do  you  find  women  pay  you  ? "  asked  Houghton. 

"Generally  speaking,  unless  they  happen  to  have  a 
young  child  about  the  coach,  which  you  are  kind  to," 
answered  Jem,  "  or  can  throw  in  a  word  or  two,  to  tickle 
them  about  their  good  looks,  they  are  the  worst  payers 
we  have.  So  far  from  giving  us  a  double  tip,  they  are 
much  more  apt  to  tip  us  the  double  when  they  can." 

"  You  don't  seem  to  be  very  fond  of  the  women,  Jem," 
said  Goodall. 

"  They  are  all  very  well  in  their  places,"  replied  Jem, 
"  but  I  don't  like  too  many  on  'em  about  my  coach.  I 
hates  the  sight  of  a  bandbox,  and  still  worse  of  an  old 
maid  and  her  lap-dog." 

"  I  observe,"  said  Lord  Edmonston,  "  there  is  not  so 
much  swearing  now  among  road  coachmen  as  there  used 
to  be,  when  I  first  travelled  by  coaches." 

"  Please  you,  my  Lord,"  answered  Jem,  "  there  is  not  so 
much  swearing  among  gentlemen  as  was  used  to  be.  De- 
pend upon  this,  my  Lord,  we  little  ones  borrows  many 


302       THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN 

Aices  from  you  great  ones  ;  and  you  great  ones,  now  and 
then — I  ax  pardon,  my  Lord — borrows  from  us  little  ones. 
When  gentlemen  leaye  off  swearing,  depend  on  it,  it  will 
get  yery  much  out  of  fashion." 

At  this  moment  one  of  the  Birmingham  and  London 
coaches  gaye  our  party  the  meeting,  and  called  forth  some 
remarks  from  them  on  the  superior  style  of  the  cattle,  as 
well  as  the  improyed  build  of  the  coach.  It  was  full 
inside  and  out,  together  %yith  an  abundance  of  luggage, 
but  was  neyertheless  proceeding  at  the  rate  of  eight  miles 
an  hour,  on  rather  a  considerable  ascent  of  ground. 

"  "What  country  in  the  world  but  England,"  exclaimed 
Jack  "Webber,  "can  exhibit  such  a  sight  as  that?  We 
ought  to  be  prouder  of  it  than  we  are.  There  go  half  the 
population  of  a  yillage,  together  with  all  their  traps,  as 
we  call  luggage  on  the  Brighton  road,  carried  at  the  rate 
of  a  good  nine  miles  an  hour,  all  stoppages  included  ;  and, 
although  on  what  may  be  called  a  ticklish  balance,  as  safe 
as  if  they  were  in  their  beds,  by  the  superior  system  of 
putting  horses  into  harness  and  driying  them.  1  repeat, 
we  ought  to  be  prouder  of  it  than  we  are.'"" 

"  They  tells  me,  ^Ir.  Webber,"'  said  Jem  Powell,  "  though 
I  scarce  knows  how  to  belieye  it,  that  we  sha'n't  be  proud 
of  it  long.  They  say  coaching  by  horses  is  soon  to  be  at 
an  end,  and  that  we  are  to  haye  coaches  go  of  themselyes 
— that  is  to  say,  by  some  kind  of  machinery  which  it  is 
not  in  my  power  to  explain.  This  seems  a  hard  case,  to 
knock  up  such  a  system  as  coaching,  now  that  it  is  just 
brought  to  perfection,  or  nearly  so.  It  will  be  the  ruin  of 
a  great  many  people  who  now  gets  their  liying  on  the  road. 
But  they  tells  me  this  is  the  case  in  most  other  things, 
nowadays.  Some  busybody,  with,  perhaps,  more  brains 
than  his  neigh boursj  and  wanting  to  make  himself  rich, 
without  caring  who  he  may  make  poor,  comes  out  with 
some  new-fangled  plans,  and  upsets  all  the  old  ones,  which 
did  yery  well  for  us  before." 

"  There  is  some  truth  in  what  you  haye  said,"  obseryed 
Lord  Edmonston  ;  "  this  is  a  wise  and  understanding  age  ; 
but  if  we  look  into  the  history  of  mankind,  in  all  periods 
of  the  world,  we  find  men  haye  arisen,  from  time  to  time, 
who  have  changed  the  whole  face  of  some  department  of 
human  knowledge  ;  nevertheless,  Jem,  you  need  not  alarm 
yourself  on  this  point.  I  conceive  you  have  been  told  that 
carriages  will  be  propelled  on  roads  by  what  is  called  a 


THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN        305: 

locomotive  power,  produced  by  steam,  but,  be  assured,  it 
will  never  take  place.  Whenever  they  travel  by  steam,  it 
must  be  on  iron  tram-roads,  but  the  time  is  far  distant 
before  that  will  be  accomplished.  At  all  events,  coaching 
by  horses  will  last  your  time." 

' "  Then,"  resumed  Jem,  "  there  is  a  man  who  has  built  a 
carriage  that  cannot  be  overturned,  but  they  tells  me  it  is 
as  heavy  as  a  broad- wheel  waggon,  and  as  much  iron  about 
it  as  is  in  three  of  our  coaches.  Surely  our  coaches  are 
safe  enough,  in  safe  hands." 

"  I  saw  the  coach  you  speak  of,  tried,"  observed  Goodall ; 
"it  certainly  did  run  on  a  bank  elevated  thirty  inches 
from  the  ground,  and  the  centre  of  gravity  was  not  dis- 
turbed, but  I  thought  it  a  sad  complicated  piece  of  work- 
manship, and,  for  my  own  part,  I  would  as  soon  ride  in  a 
waggon." 

"XVell,"  said  Jem,  "we  must  not  find  fault  with  all 
those  busybodies,  as  I  calls  them,  for  this  A  merican  chap, 
Mr.  McAdam,  is  showing  our  people  how  to  make  the  roads 
run  well,  though  they  are  terribly  loth  to  follow  his 
directions.  They  won't  believe  but  what  those  small 
stones  vnW  grind  all  to  pieces  in  a  very  short  time,  instead 
of — which  they  do — forming  a  hard  and  smooth  surface. 
Indeed,  I  was  myself  some  time  before  I  could  persuade 
myself  that  they  would  do  so,  even  if  properly  broke,  and 
put  thick  enough  on  the  road." 

"  The  surface  of  a  road  is  formed  as  ice  is  formed," 
observed  Lord  Edmonston,  "by  the  uniting  of  its  own 
spiculae,  which  dovetail  into  each  other  ;  thus,  small  stones 
unite  by  their  own  angles,  and  produce  the  effect  we  see. 
I  considered  McAdam  the  greatest  benefactor  to  England 
since  Dr.  Jenner,  for,  until  we  adopted  his  plan,  we  did 
not  know  what  a  good  road  is.  The  large  stones  pre- 
viously made  use  of,  both  in  forming  and  repairing  roads, 
were  calculated,  mechanically,  to  render  them  uneven  and 
full  of  holes,  inasmuch  as  they  acted  as  levers  to  raise  up 
the  ground,  when  a  wheel  passed  over  one  end  of  them." 

"  You  have  been  very  lucky  in  the  accident  w^ay,  have 
you  not,  Jem  ? "  said  Webber. 

"  Never  throwed  a  coach  over,  sir,"  replied  Jem,  "  but 
have  had  her  over  twice — once  by  the  axle-tree  breaking, 
when  I  broke  my  leg,  and  once  —  before  we  got  patent 
boxes — by  losing  a  fore- wheel.  There  ought  to  be  an  Act 
of  Parliament  to  prevent  any  coach  from  running  that  has 


304       THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN 

not  patent  boxes  to  tlie  wheels,  for  linch-pins  are  not  to  be 
depended  upon  ;  and  axle-trees  should  be  made  stronger 
than  they  are." 

"  I  think  so,  too,"  observed  Webber  ;  "  the  sustaining 
power  should  be  much  more  than  equal  to  the  impending 
weight.  I  had  my  coach  over  once  from  an  axle-tree 
giving  way,  but,  luckily,  no  one  was  hurt.  Coach  axle- 
trees  should  be  tried  before  used  by  an  hydraulic  press, 
the  test  being  twice  the  weight  they  would  ever  be  re- 
quired to  sustain.  And  care  should  be  taken  that  not 
only  the  best  iron  is  used,  but  that  there  is  no  flaw  in  it — 
for  axle-trees  are  always  found  to  break  where  any  flaw 
exists." 

"  But  would  it  not  be  difficult  to  find  out  whether  there 
is  a  flaw  in  the  iron  ? "  asked  Jem. 

"  Not  at  all,"  replied  Webber  ;  "  let  the  axle-tree  be 
placed  on  an  anvil,  and  struck  on  its  nose  at  one  end  with 
a  key,  or  any  bit  of  iron  or  steel,  and  if,  on  the  ear  being 
placed  at  the  opposite  nose,  a  hissing  sound  is  heard,  you 
may  be  sure  a  flaw  exists  somewhere.  Should  it  be  about 
the  centre,  no  harm  may  arise  ;  but  if  -within  a  short 
distance  of  the  shoulder,  which  is  the  chief  bearing  part, 
it  is  a  great  source  of  danger." 

"  As  to  accidents  to  coaches,"  resumed  Jem,  "  they  are 
almost  always  to  be  traced  to  carelessness  either  in  the 
builders,  the  drivers,  or  the  horsers  of  them.  How  many 
proprietors  keep  on  a  night  coachman,  when  they  know  he 
is  drunk  on  his  box  four  nights  in  the  week,  although,  to 
be  sure,  this  part  of  the  business  is  not  so  bad  as  it  used  to 
be,  in  my  early  days  !  It  was  a  chance,  then,  to  find  a 
night  coachman  quite  sober.  Then  how  many  proprietors 
keep  on  a  restive  horse,  sooner  than  lose  a  few  pounds  by 
getting  rid  of  him  to  the  best  bidder  !  Again  :  what 
cripples  will  some  on  'em  put  on  the  mails  over  the  middle 
ground  !  A  gentleman  once  told  me,  that  he  was  on  the 
box  of  one  of  the  cross  country  mails,  when,  after  passing 
a  very  awkward  bridge,  on  a  dark  and  foggy  night,  the 
coachman  said  to  him  : — '  Well  over  that  'ere  bridge,  sir  ; 
there^s  only  one  eye  among  us,^  which,  of  course,  was  his  own. 
But  only  think,  sir,  of  four  blind  horses  for  night  work  !  " 

"  Give  us  a  few  maxims,  Jem,"  said  Frank  Baby,  "  by 
the  observance  of  which  you  have  succeeded  so  well  in 
keeping  your  coach  on  her  legs." 

"  They  are  few  and  simple,  sir,"  replied  Jem  ;   "  but, 


THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN        305 

mind  ye,  I  haven't  had  much  practice  of  night  work,  my 
lamps  being  only  lit  for  an  hour  or  two  in  the  dead  of  the 
winter  ;  but  you  shall  have  what  you  wish.  First  of  all, 
I  examine  my  coaches  before  they  leave  the  builder's 
yard,  to  see  that  the  best  kind  of  stuff  is  put  into  them  ; 
and  I  am  very  particular  about  the  pole  fitting  tight  in 
the  futchels.  Once  a  pole  begins  to  swag  in  the  futchels, 
a  little  thing  breaks  it ;  and,  mind  ye,  it  is  one  of  the 
main  stays  of  a  coach  ! — what  th.e  rudder  is  to  the  ship. 
Then  I  never  drive  a  shying  horse  as  leader,  if  I  can  help 
it ;  but  if  he  is  too  slight  for  the  wheel  of  our  coach,  or 
will  not  work  well  in  that  place,  I  always  put  a  mope 
over  his  face,  which  prevents  his  seeing  anything  beyond 
a  few  yards  of  the  road  under  his  feet,  and  that's  quite 
enough.  A  coach-horse  don't  want  to  be  a-looking  about 
him,  no  more  than  the  man  who  drives  him,  unless  it  be 
at  his  road.  I  am_  very  particular  about  my  harness — 
about  the  reins  and  billets.  I  watch  the  wearing  parts, 
and  have  them  cut  out  and  replaced  in  time,  and  1  make 
my  horse-keepers  beat  the  collars  and  keep  them  clean,  so 
that,  in  spite  of  the  heavy  loads  my  coach  carries,  and  the 
steep  hills  on  our  road,  I  never  have  a  gib-horse,  because 
I  never  have  a  sore  shoulder.  In  short,  I  hates  to  see  a 
broken  skin  about  a  coach-horse,  and  he  never  need  have 
one,  if  his  coachman  minds  his  business.  Poor  th  ings  ! 
coach-horses  have  too  often  punishment  enough  in  their 
work,  without  being  nearly  flayed  alive,  as  they  are  in 
some  hands.  As  for  mine,  they  are  as  round  as  balls,  and 
as  free  from  scars  as  you  gentlemen's  hunters  are  ;  indeed, 
people  say  I  shall  spoil  the  coach^  by  nursing  them  too 
much,  and  not  galloping  headlong,  as  some  of  t'others  do 
on  this  road.  But  see  what  happens  ;  scarce  a  week  but 
one  on  'em  goes  over.  A  gentleman  comes  up  to  me  t'other 
day,  and  says,  'Jem,  what  will  you  take  me  to  Birming- 
ham for  ? '  '  My  fare,  sir,'  said  I,  '  is  fifteen  shillings.'  '  I 
can  go  by  the  Eora  (Aurora),'  said  he,  'for  ten.'  'No 
doubt,  sir,'  I  replied,  '  but  then  there's  the  doctor's  bill ! ' 
He  went  with  me,  and  that  very  day  they  had  an  accident 
with  the  Rora." 

"  Of  what  description  ? "  asked  Lord  Edmonston. 
^  "  They  was  a-galloping,  my  Lord,  against  the  opposi- 
tion, which  was  just  behind  them,  and  over  they  went." 

"  And  was  anyone  hurt  ? " 

1  Which  he  did. 
20 


3o6       THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN 

"  Several,  my  Lord." 

"  Of  course  the  opposition  stopped  to  afford  assistance 
to  the  passengers." 

"  Not  a  bit  of  it,  my  Lord  ;  one  gentleman  told  me  that, 
as  he  was  in  the  act  of  rolling  away  from  the  coach,  he 
heard  the  oj^position  coachman  sing  out  to  the  other,  as 
he  galloped  by — 'What,  Joe,  your  bees  are  a-swarming 
this  fine  morning,  are  they  ? '  Then  again,"  resumed 
Jem,  "  I  takes  a  precaution  that,  perhaps,  few  others  does. 
On  my  two  worst  hills,  I  gives  the  man  who  looks  after 
the  road,  a  pot  of  beer,  now  and  then,  to  leave  a  few 
yards  of  loose  stone  or  gravel  in  two,  or  perhaps  three, 
places  on  the  near  side  ;  when  I  feel  the  coach  press  on 
the  wheel-horses  going  down  these  hills,  I  run  her  into 
this  loose  stone,  or  gravel,  and,  if  it  don't  quite  balance 
her,  it  so  far  checks  her  as  to  make  all  safe.  Then,  as 
this  prevents  my  putting  on  the  skid,  I  can  let  'em  go 
towards  the  bottom,  and " 

"  Let  them  avail  themselves  of  the  impetus  of  motion — 
the  vis  vivida,  as  we  call  it,"  observed  Lord  Edmonston. 

"7  calls  it  cheating  'em  out  of  half  the  opposite  hill," 
said  Jem. 

"You  have  had  your  share  of  kickers,  I  suppose," 
observed  Webber. 

"  Not  lately,"  replied  Jem.  "  My  master  and  I  are  old 
acquaintances  now  ;  I  can  pick  my  stock  a  little  ;  and 
depend  on't  I  don't  pick  out  a  kicker.  But  when  I  was 
a-going  over,  I  didn't  think  much  of  kickers,  dangerous  as 
they  are.  If  leaders,  I  always  had  a  ring  on  the  leading- 
reins,  between  the  head  turrets  of  the  wheelers  and  the 
pad  turrets  of  the  leaders,  so  as  to  prevent  their  getting 
under  their  tails ;  and  if  at  wheel,  I  took  care  to  have  a 
right  strong  kicking  trace  over  their  backs.  I  got  tired 
of  carrying  a  wheeler  on  the  pole,  one  day  ;  and  as  for 
leaders,  I  have  had  their  legs  so  fast,  either  among  the 
bars,  or  among  the  pole-chains,  that  I  more  than  once 
thought  I  must  have  got  a  saw  to  work  to  get  them  out. 
Never  keep  a  kicker,  Mr.  Raby,  he  gives  no  notice  ;  a 
mere  pinch  of  a  pad,  or  even  a  twist  in  his  trace,  sets  him 
off ;  and  he  cares  not  where  he  runs  you,  till  he  has  had 
his  kick  out.  Depend  on't  he'll  never  leave  it  off,  for  his 
real  meaning  is — he  don't  like  work,  and  he  wants  to  kick 
himself  out  of  harness  at  once.  And  be  sure  always  keep 
your  own  side  on  the  road — ■ — " 


THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN        307 

Jack  Wehher — interrupting  him — 

"Tlie  rule  of  the  road  is  a  paradox  quite, 
I  confess  I  have  thought  it  so  long : 
If  you  go  to  the  left  you  are  sure  to  go  right, 
If  you  go  to  the  right,  you  are  wrong." 

"  I  am  not  much  of  a  man  for  ijoetry"  resumed  Jem  ; 
"but  never  throw  a  chance  away  in  coaching,  for, 
remember,  other  limbs  and  lives  are  in  your  care  besides 
your  own.  Never  run  too  near  carts,  and  waggons,  and  so 
forth.  The  horses  in  them  may  bolt  towarcls  you,  and 
catch  hold  of  you  before  you  can  get  away  from  them — 
especially  if  your  team  is  not  one  of  the  handiest.  But, 
mind  this — wherever  your  leaders'  bars  can  go,  your 
wheels  can  go,  without  touching,  with  something  to  spare 
— that  is  to  say,  provided  your  leaders  are  on  the  collars 
at  the  time.  I  was  once  in  a  nice  scrape  by  going  too 
near  a  cart  in  which  two  horses  ran  abreast  of  each  other 
before  the  shaft  horse.  The  trace  of  the  off  horse  caught 
my  roller  bolt,  and  thus  we  were  locked  together  as  fast 
as  if  we  had  been  in  the  same  vice." 

"  And  how  did  you  get  out  of  it  1 "  asked  Webber. 

"  Why,  by  a  bit  of  good  luck,"  replied  Jem  ;  "  the  cart- 
horses kept  pace  with  me,  till  they  got  blown,  and  then 
stopped  of  their  own  accord  ;  the  driver  was  in  the  cart, 
without  reins,  and  had  no  command  of  them.  It  cured 
me  of  running  too  near  a  team  of  powerful  horses. 

"  But  to  show  you  how  soon  an  accident  may  happen  to 
a  coach,  and  from  what  a  trifling  cause,  I  will  tell  you 
what  happened  to  a  fellow-servant  of  mine  about  a  dozen 
years  back.  The  collar  of  his  box  coat  was  fastened  by 
what  is  called  a  hook  and  eye ;  having  occasion  to  stroke 
his  chin  with  his  right  hand,  on  which  was  a  strong  glove, 
with  a  hole  in  it,  the  hook  entered  the  hole,  and  held  his 
hand  fast.  The  horses  bolted  at  the  moment  towards  the 
near  side  of  the  road,  which,  being  deprived  of  the  use  of 
his  right  hand,  he  had  not  the  power  of  preventing,  and 
the  consequence  was,  that  his  coach  was  upset,  and  one 
passenger  killed  and  several  badly  hurt." 

On  arriving  at  the  house  where  Jem  Powell  had  been 
picked  up,  he  was  taken  leave  of  by  the  party,  our  hero 
slipping  a  five-pound  note  into  his  hand,  as  he  gave  it  a 
hearty  shake  ;  and  the  fresh  team  being  put  to  the  coach, 
within  a  minute  of  the  time  allowed  they  were  at  the  hall 


3o8        THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN 

door  of  their  owner,  with  scarcely  a  wet  hair  on  their 
skins,  a  cool  breeze  from  the  north  having  met  them 
point-blank  for  the  last  five  miles.  In  the  course  of  the 
evening,  the  doings  of  the  morning  were  talked  over, 
much  in  the  following  strain  : — 

"Well,  Eaby,"  said  Hargrave,  "we  have  spent  a  very 
pleasant  day.  Peyton  is  the  same  straightforward  good 
sort  of  fellow  as  he  was  when  we  first  became  acquainted 
with  him  ;  and  how  complete  is  his  establishment  in 
everything  !  " 

"  There  is  no  better,"  said  Jack  Webber,  "  take  it 
altogether,  and  there  is  a  workman  at  the  head  of  it, 
which  is  everything.  As  a  horseman  and  a  coachman 
Peyton  has  not  met  his  equal.  And  is  not  old  Jem 
capital,  with  his  broad-brimmed  hat  and  copper-coloured 
weather-beaten  mug  and  his  lingo?  No  person  could 
mistake  his  calling  ;  and  how  quaintly,  yet  to  the  purpose, 
does  he  express  himself  on  all  subjects  on  which  he  speaks  ! 
He  has  been  an  excellent  servant  to  Costar,  and  is  highly 
respected  on  the  road.^  Have  you  enjoyed  yourself  to- 
day, Edmonston  ? " 

"It  would  have  been  impossible  not  to  have  done  so," 
replied  his  Lordship.  "  In  the  first  place,  it  was  one  of 
the  finest  mornings  I  ever  saw  in  my  life,  and  I  delight  in 
a  fine  spring  morning  above  all  things.  I  always  think 
that  the  same  animal  pleasure  which  makes  the  bird  sing, 
rises  sensibly  in  the  heart  of  man." 

"  Give  me  a  November  morning,"  interrupted  Somerby, 
"  and  music  of  another  sort  than  the  chirping  of  birds  and 
bleating  of  lambs.  This  is  all  very  well  for  your  pastoral 
poets  to  sing  about ;  but,  as  Forrest  says,  there  is  no  such 
melody  to  the  ear  of  a  sportsman,  with  a  good  stud  of 
hunters  in  his  stable,  as  the  clinking  of  women's  pattens 
in  the  Melton  streets  on  a  dark  night  in  December." 

"  Every  man  to  his  taste,"  resumed  Lord  Edmonston  ; 
"  all  these  things  are  very  well  in  their  way,  if  not  carried 
too  far.  I  see  no  objection,  for  example,  to  a  gentleman 
driving  his  own  coach,  provided  he  do  not  lose  caste  by 
transforming  himself  into  a  coachman.  But,  I  repeat,  the 
love  of  the  pursuit  does  not  admit  of  his  going  to  extremes. 
We  debase  ourselves  by  imitating  servants  in  the  first 
place  ;   and,  in  the  next,  by  exalting  them  to  something 

1  It  is  to  be  lamented  that  there  is  no  print  in  existence  of  this 
thorough-bred  coachman,  who  was  the  beau-ideal  of  his  caUing. 


THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN        309 

like  an  equality  with  ourselves,  we  make  them  conceited, 
and,  consequently,  destroy  subordination.  And  the  ex- 
ample is  often  injurious  to  very  young  men.  I  knew 
one,  very  well  connected,  and  with  good  prospects  before 
him,  who  began  by  affecting  the  character  of  a  coachman, 
and  ended  by  adopting  it,  to  the  great  mortification  of  his 
family." 

"  You  are  hitting  me  under  the  bars,"  said  Jack  Webber, 
with  one  of  his  good-humoured  smiles. 

"Present  company  are  always  excepted,"  replied  the 
peer  ;  "  besides,  you  have  resumed  your  place  in  society, 
which,  indeed,  you  can  scarcely  be  said  to  have  lost ;  for 
I  know  that,  when  you  took  it  into  your  head  to  turn 
coachman,  you  never  forgot  that  you  were  a  gentleman. 
Indeed,  I  have  been  told  that  you  were  the  cause  of 
working  a  reformation  amongst  your  brethren  of  the  whip 
on  the  Brighton  road." 

"  As  for  myself,"  resumed  Jack  Webber,  "  I  was  never 
happier  than  during  the  three  years  I  was  a  coachman, 
and  I  wish  the  next  three  years  of  my  life  may  be  as  well 
and  profitably  employed.  The  devil,  they  say,  always 
employs  an  idle  man,  but  I  was  too  busy  for  him,  and  he 
left  me  alone.  Idleness  is  the  parent  of  all  vice,  both  in 
man  and  beast ;  and,  when  I  had  done  my  day's  work,  I 
was  seldom  inclined  for  any  mischief.  A  newspaper,  or  a 
book,  with  one  glass  of  grog,  after  my  supper,  and  then 
the  night-cap,  formed  my  almost  daily  course." 

"  But,  Frank,"  said  Lord  Edmonston,  "  with  these  studs 
of  yours,  both  for  the  field  and  road,  when  will  you  be 
able  to  find  time  to  comply  with  the  wishes  of  your  late 
uncle  and  father,  and  take  a  tour  on  the  continent  1  You 
will  find  good  account  in  it.  You  need  not  adopt  the 
peculiarities  of  one  country  or  another ;  but,  rely  on  it, 
travelling  is  very  essential  to  men  who  are  to  live  in  the 
world  :  it  not  only  enlarges  the  mind  and  improves  the 
understanding,  but  it  frees  it  from  prejudices,  which  is 
a  great  point  gained.  In  the  last  page  of  a  diary  kept  by 
my  father,  when  he  went  the  grand  tour,  is  this  sentence  : 
— '  I  am  truly  glad  that  I  have  taken  the  advice  of  my 
father,  though  sorely  against  my  will,  to  take  this  tour. 
It  has  dispelled  prejudices,  short-sightedness,  and  caprice, 
to  which  I  was  previously  addicted.  With  change  of 
place,  I  found  my  ideas  were  changed,  as  also  my  opinions 
and  feelings  ;  and,  having  reflected  on  much  that  I  saw 


3IO       THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN 

and  heard,  I  returned  to  my  own  country  a  more  chari- 
table and  a  better  disposed  man  than  I  had  left  it.' " 

"  I  have  not  made  up  my  mind  on  this  subject,"  replied 
Eaby.  "  It  is  true,  my  uncle  suggested  a  tour  on  the 
continent,  but  perceiving  I  did  not  exactly  respond  to  his 
suggestion,  he  no  longer  pressed  it.  I  have  conversed  with 
several  of  my  friends,  senior  of  course  to  myself,  who 
have  been  abroad  for  longer  or  shorter  periods,  and  they 
assured  me  that  they  all  suffered  during  the  first  half  of 
the  time  from  what  the  French  call  la  maladie  du  ixiys^ 
the  result  of  their  regrets  for  having  left  their  homes  and 
friends  ;  and,  during  the  second,  from  a  perpetual  long- 
ing to  return.  To  those  young  men  who  labour  under  a 
sense  of  weariness  and  satiety  of  the  good  things  they 
enjoy  in  England,  and  who  have  no  active  pursuits,  a 
sojourn  abroad  may  be  an  agreeable  and  healthful  change  : 
but  by  a  person,  who,  like  myself,  has  a  pursuit  for  every 
day  in  the  year — whose  wish  is  to  live  the  life  of  a  country 
gentleman  and  a  sportsman,  and  who  has  no  desire  to 
breathe  the  unwholesome  and  somewhat  tainted  atmo- 
sphere of  courts,  little  advantage  is  to  be  gained  by  it." 


CHAPTER    XVI 

The  B.D.C.  and  B.C.M.  Our  Sportsman  makes  a  tour,  in  which 
he  visits  many  of  the  most  celebrated  fox-hunting  estabhsh- 
ments  in  England. 

OUR  hero's  next  move  was  to  London,  where  he  had 
apartments  taken  for  him  at  one  of  the  best  hotels, 
in  the  best  part  of  the  town,  and  stabling  for  twelve 
horses  in  a  mews  hard  by.  As  may  be  imagined  in  so 
young  a  man,  he  was  occasionally  to  be  seen  in  the  streets 
and  the  park  with  his  team,  in  the  latter,  indeed,  always 
on  Sundays  ;  but  he  generally  preferred  the  public  roads, 
especially  the  one  on  which  his  education  for  a  coachman 
had  been  completed,  that  to  Windsor  and  Eton;  and 
twice  a  week,  during  his  sojourn  in  London,  he  gave  a 
dinner  to  his  party  at  the  Castle  Inn,  Salt  Hill,  bringing 
them  back  to  town  in  the  evening,  performing  the  ground, 
with  a  change  at  Hounslo^v,  in  two  hours,  to  a  minute. 
Richmond  was  also  another  of  his  favourite  rendezvous, 


THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN        311 

where  two  or  three  others  of  the  amateur  coachmen  of 
his  day  assembled,  and  where  excellent  hand-in-the-pocket 
dinners  were  partaken  of  by  the  passengers  which  each 
brought  down — first-class  men  in  their  line,  of  course. 
But,  it  may  be  asked,  were  there  no  mishaps  on  the  road 
from  this  after-dinner  work,  with  well-bred  and  highly- 
fed  cattle  (the  expressive  epithet  "spicy,"  was  not  then 
in  the  vocabulary)  ?  Not  often.  A  pole  was  broken  one 
night  between  Brentford  and  London,  by  an  amateur 
working  for  his  amateur  friend,  and  who  dropped  one  of 
his  reins,  although  a  very  good  coachman  ;  and  on  another, 
owing  to  a  holt  on  the  shoot  from  off  Kew  Bridge,  a 
singular  accident  occurred.  No  sooner  did  the  horses 
feel  the  drag  press  upon  them,  than  they  got  the  better 
of  their  driver,  also  a  first-rate  workman,  and  were  only 
pulled  up  by  coming  in  contact  with  some  iron  paling, 
enclosing  a  gentleman's  grounds.  "  A  dreadful  smash,  of 
course — a  case  for  the  coroner  ! '"'  methinks  I  hear  my 
reader  exclaim.  Two  horses  were  killed,  it  is  true,  but 
the  Corinthians  escaped,  with  the  exception  of  one,  who 
was  actually  impaled  on  the  iron  spikes  on  which  he  fell ; 
but,  hard  as  Corinthian  brass,  he  was  not  killed,  and  in 
a  few  weeks  recovered.  Then,  on  another  occasion,  in 
returning  from  Salt  Hill,  our  hero  had  a  narrow  escape, 
as  had  also  the  party  who  were  on  his  coach.  His  horses 
got  the  better  of  him,  and  where,  reader,  would  you 
suppose  they  were  pulled  up  ?  You  would  never  guess, 
so  you  shall  hear  at  once. — Between  the  eight  horses  of  the 
doivn  Exeter  waggon!  Miraculous  as  it  may  appear, 
neither  man  nor  horse  was  injured  to  any  serious  extent. 
The  fact  was,  what  are  called  "  the  stretchers  " — rods 
about  the  thickness  of  a  mop  handle,  which  were  attached 
to  each  pair  of  the  waggon-horses,  to  prevent  their  lean- 
ing toward  each  other  in  their  v/ork — checked  the  career 
of  the  horses,  as  they  broke  their  way  through  them,  and 
so  far  modified  the  collision  between  the  waggon  and  the 
coach,  as  to  cause  no  further  damage  than  breaking  the 
pole  of  the  latter,  and  hurting  two  of  the  horses. 

It  was  during  this  visit  to  London  that  Frank  Raby 
was  elected  a  member  of  the  B.D.C.,  at  that  time  held  at 
the  small  town  of  Benson,  in  Oxfordshire,  but  afterwards 
removed,  on  account  of  the  distance  from  London,  to  the 
Black  Dog  Inn,  at  Bedfont,  a  small  village  fourteen  miles 
from  London,  on  the  Great  Western  Road,  then  kept  by 


312        THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN 

a  person  named  Harvey,  famous  for  his  beefsteaks,  as 
also  for  the  fish  sauce  \yhich  still  bears  his  name.  It  was 
composed  of  about  thirty  members  (at  least  seventy  have 
been  numbered  since),  including  the  best  and  most 
experienced  amateur  coachmen  of  those  days,  at  the  head 
of  whom  was  the  great  John  Wall,  the  father  of  the  field 
and  the  road,  as  he  was  even  then  called  in  the  sporting 
world  ;  and  a  curious  circumstance  occurred  on  the  first 
day  of  our  hero  making  his  appearance  at  it.  George 
IV.,  then  Prince  of  Wales,  was  changing  horses  at  the 
door  of  the  inn  at  which  the  club  dined,  and  was  in- 
formed that  his  health  was  that  moment  about  to  be 
drunk  by  the  members,  with  three  times  three.  The 
Prince  afterwards  acknowledged  the  compliment  to  one 
of  the  party,  at  Carlton  House,  adding — "Was  not  old 
John  Wall  among  you?"  On  being  answered  in  the 
afiirmative,  he  replied — "  I  thought  I  knew  his  halloo." 
Then  there  was  another  well-known  and  amusing 
character,  a  member  of  this  club.  His  name  was  Price. 
His  scene  of  action  was  on  the  Great  Western  Eoad,  on 
which  he  worked,  as  an  amateur,  nearly  as  regularly  as 
any  coachman  upon  it.  But  it  is  for  this  evening's 
exjDloits  that  his  fame  is  recorded  here.  After  five  bottles 
of  hock,  which  he  could  put  under  his  waistcoat,  at  a 
sitting,  without  being  much  affected  by  them,  he  would 
fill  a  bumper,  and,  placing  the  glass  to  stand  on  his  head, 
he  would  sing  a  song,  in  which  the  names  of  every  coach- 
man and  horse-keeper  employed  on  a  certain  coach  from 
London  to  Plymouth,  were  introduced.  Nor  was  this  all, 
he  would,  at  the  same  time,  go  through  the  manoeuvres 
of  hitting  wheelers  and  leaders,  without  spilling  a  drop 
of  his  wine  ;  and  after  he  had  drunk  it  ofi^,  he  would  run 
the  empty  glass  up  and  down  the  large  silver  buttons  of 
his  coat,  with  very  singular  efi'ect.  Then  the  following 
anecdote  speaks  to  the  prevalence  of  his  ruling  passion 
for  the  coach-box.  At  the  time  to  which  we  have  been 
alluding,  the  French  revolution  was  raging  in  all  its 
horrors.  The  subject  being  discussed  in  his  presence,  he 
took  a  letter  from  his  pocket,  and  thus  addressed  those 
who  were  present: — "What's  the  French  revolution  to 
me  ?  Here  is  Bill  Simmons,  the  first  man  that  ever  drove 
the  Exeter  mail  out  of  Exeter,  turned  over  to  the  heavy 
coach,  and  against  his  will.  Noiv,  that  is  what  I  call  a 
revolution  I " 


THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN        313 

There  was  another  club  formed  at  this  time,  of  which  it 
may  be  imagined  our  hero  was  anxious  to  become  a 
member,  and  the  character  he  had  acquired  in  society  at 
once  secured  him  his  election  ;  for,  as  Johnson  said  to 
Burke,  who  recommended  a  candidate  for  the  Literary 
Club  as  a  man  of  gentle  manners— '■'■  no  more  need  be  said." 
The  one  now  alluded  to  was  generally  called  either  the 
"  ^Vhip  Club,"  or  the  "  Four-in-hand  Club,"  but  its  real 
title  was  the  "Four-horse  Club."  Their  first  meeting 
was  held  in  April  1808  ;  and  they  assembled,  afterwards, 
every  first  and  third  Thursday  in  May,  and  the  same 
in  June,  at  the  house  of  their  president,  in  Cavendish 
Square,  whence  they  drove  in  procession  to  Salt  Hill,  on 
the  Bath  road,  where  they  dined,  alternately,  at  the  two 
capital  inns  for  which  that  delightful  village  has  been  so 
celebrated — one  of  them,  indeed,  especially  so,  as  having 
been  the  scene  of  the  destruction  of  thirteen  persons  in 
one  day,  from  eating  mock  turtle  soup,  which  had  been 
left  to  stand  a  night  in  a  copper  vessel  not  properly 
tinned.  Two  guineas  a  head  was  the  price  of  these 
dinners,  and  the  utmost  good  fellowship  prevailed  at 
them.  Neither  were  themselves  only  considered  ;  their 
charities  to  coachmen  and  guards  in  distress  were  largely 
dispensed,  and  they  were  the  chief  means  of  establishing 
the  "  Benevolent  Club,"  which,  to  this  day,  is  the  refuge 
of  such  of  that  class  of  persons  as  are  unable  to  get  their 
living  in  their  calling — that  is  to  say,  such  as  had  the 
foresight  to  enrol  their  names  on  its  books.  In  fact, 
there  was  nothing  that  could  be  cavilled  at  in  the 
proceedings  of  this  club,  unless  it  might  be  the  somewhat 
unnecessary  parade  of  the  procession,  which  generally 
contained  at  least  a  dozen  teams,  each  bond  fide  member 
having  an  honorary  member  on  his  box.  Not  much, 
however,  could  be  said  against  this  ;  it  afforded  a  splendid 
spectacle  on  a  fine  June  morning,  each  member  vieing 
with  his  neighbour  in  the  elegance  and  'propriety  of  his 
turn-out  ;  and  it  may  in  truth  be  said,  that  neither  before 
nor  since  has  its  equal  been  seen  in  any  country  in  the 
world,  for  the  excellent  workmanship  of  the  carriages  and 
harness,  and  the  superior  class  of  horses  that  were  attached 
to  them. 

As  may  be  supposed,  all  eyes — at  least  all  those  of  the 
members  of  the  Four-horse  Club — were  upon  Frank  Baby 
and  his  team,  as  he  entered   the    square    on  the   first 


314        THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN 

morning  of  his  appearance  ;  neither  were  they,  in  any 
res]3ect,  disappointed.  His  coach  was  new  for  the 
occasion  ;  his  harness  —  patent  leather  for  pads  and 
winches  was  not  then  known — as  clean  and  as  shining  as 
Lord  Salton's  coachman's  blacking  could  make  it ;  an 
extra  pound  of  soaj)  had  been  used  that  morning  on  the 
horses  ;  and,  by  way  of  a  finish,  the  manly  and  handsome 
person  of  the  owner,  becomingly  dressed  for  the  occasion, 
and  with  a  well-selected  bouquet  in  his  breast,  produced 
the  coup.  By  his  side  sat  his  friend  Hargrave,  elected  an 
honorary  member  of  the  club  ;  and  his  team — the  picking 
of  his  stable,  of  course,  having  the  black  piebald  off  leader 
— was  pronounced  all-sufficient  and  business-like,  although, 
as  might  have  been  expected,  not  first-rate  ;  the  premier- 
ship having  been  awarded  to  that  of  Sir  John  Inkleton, 
which  time  and  better  judgment  had  rendered  perfect. 
But  having  mentioned  his  blacking,  we  must  not  pass 
over  the  crack  team  of  those  times — that  of  the  Earl  of 
Salton,  who,  although  not  a  member  of  the  club,  generally 
was  on  the  look-out  for  the  procession,  and  being,  by  the 
su23eriority  of  his  cattle,  able  to  give  any  of  the  members 
the  go-by  when  he  pleased,  would  occasionally  amuse 
himself  by  so  doing. 

It  may  be  gathered,  by  what  has  been  said  of  him, 
that  Lord  Edmonston — although  a  young  nobleman  of 
a  highly  honourably  character,  uniting  prudence  with 
liberality  to  a  degree  not  often  experienced  at  his  period 
of  life,  and,  as  may  also  be  recollected,  not  only  a  kind 
friend,  but  an  affectionate  and  serviceable  monitor  to  our 
hero  in  the  hour  of  need,  although  he  was  at  that  time 
little  known  to  his  Lordship — was  neither  a  practical 
coachman  nor  sportsman — beyond  driving  his  own  curricle, 
in  the  one  case,  and  joining  the  hounds  of  his  neighbour- 
hood, in  the  other  ;  not  so  much,  perhaps,  from  the  love 
of  hunting,  which  he  did  not  profess  to  understand,  as 
for  the  exercise  and  society  Mdiich  the  noble  pursuit 
afforded  him.  At  a  dinner,  then,  given  by  ,Sir  John 
Inkleton,  a  day  or  two  after  one  of  the  processions  of  the 
Eour-in-hand  Club  had  taken  place,  and  at  which,  by  the 
introduction  of  Frank  Baby,  his  Lordship  was  one  of  the 
guests,  the  conversation  having  turned  upon  the  doings 
of  this  very  celebrated  club,  he  was  thus  heard  to  speak  of 
it:— 

"  It  may  be  all  very  well,"  said  his  Lordship,  "  for 


THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN        315 

gentlemen  to  drive  their  own  carriages,  wheresoever  and 
whensoever  they  like  ;  but  it  strikes  me  that  there  is  too 
much  system  in  the  proceedings  of  the  Four-horse  Club. 
There  is,  likewise,  in  the  dress  of  the  members,  too  great 
a  desire  to  imitate  the  public  coachmen,  to  the  detriment 
of  their  own  caste,  as  well  as  of  their  personal  appearance. 
I  rather  give  the  preference  to  the  Benson  Club,  inasmuch 
as  the  gratification  arising  from  the  pursuit  is  equally 
enjoyed  by  the  members,  but  in  a  quieter  way,  and 
stripped  of  all  display." 

"There  is  some  justice  in  your  remarks,"  observed  Sir 
John  Inkleton ;  "  still,  I  am  disposed  to  believe  that 
much  more  of  good  than  of  harm  has  been  the  result  of 
both  of  those  clubs.  That  great  improvement  has  taken 
place  in  coach  travelling  during  the  last  few  years — a 
point  of  immense  importance  to  a  commercial  country, 
which  England  is — in  its  various  branches  and  depart- 
ments, no  one  will  feel  disposed  to  deny  ;  and  coach 
proprietors  are  entitled  to  their  meed  of  praise  for  their 
exertions  in  aiding  the  good  cause.  I  am,  however,  bold 
enough  to  assert  that  not  the  least,  if  not  the  principal 
efficient  cause  has  been,  the  great  interest  taken  in  all  that 
concerns  what  is  called  the  road,  by  men  of  fortune  and 
judgment.  Men  of  mathematical  and  classical  education, 
indeed,  of  refined  manners,  and  possessing  humane 
feelings,  have  made  the  working  of  a  coach,  drawn  by 
four  horses,  their  study,  as  well  as  their  amusement ;  and 
although  grave  old  codgers  have  laughed  at  them,  editors 
of  newspapers  pitied  them,  and  fine  ladies  felt  shocked  at 
them,  the  public  have  reason  to  thank  them,  travellers  to 
pray  for  them,  and  the  noblest  of  the  brute  creation,  had 
they  the  faculty  of  sj^eech,  might  pour  out  their  gratitude 
for  the  benefits  they  have  received  at  their  hands.  In  the 
first  place,  they  pointed  out  the  cruelty  of  enforcing,  in 
the  low-bred  horse,  the  sjDeed  and  powers  peculiar  only  to 
those  possessing  a  certain  portion  of  high  blood.  Secondly, 
harness,  if  ill-constructed,  independently  of  being  unsafe, 
is  more  tormentingly  punishing  to  horses  than  all  the 
whipping  that  can  be  applied  to  them.  The  members  of 
these  clubs  improved  this  in  many  particulars,  of  which, 
without  practical  experience  of  the  defects,  they  never  could 
have  been  judges,  and  of  which,  in  too  many  instances, 
coach  proprietors  and  their  servants  wer«.  too  careless  or 
too  ignorant  to   be  informed.     In  short,  tu  the  amateur 


3i6        THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN 

coachmen  of  England  Englishmen  are  greatly  indebted. 
To  them  we  owe  the  improved  manners  as  well  as  morals 
of  modern  road  coachmen,  amongst  whom  they  have 
excited  a  wholesome  spirit  of  emulation,  a  creditable 
style  of  dress  and  address,  as  well  as  honest  pride  in  the 
condition  of  their  horses,  cleanliness  of  their  harness,  and 
so  forth.  Coach  travelling  is,  as  it  were,  metamorphosed 
into  something  approaching  to  luxury,  from  a  tedious  and 
disgusting  labour  ;  and  a  modern  stage-coach  is  become  a 
beautiful  object  on  our  roads,  in  the  place  of  an  unwieldy 
machine,  at  variance  with  mathematical  principles.  There 
is  an  increase  of  speed  with  a  diminution  of  danger — a 
great  point  gained,  and  to  the  accomplishment  of  which 
the  improvement  in  axle-trees  and  wheels  has  most 
materially  tended.  'Dry  wheels  make  wet  horses,'  is  a 
proverb  on  the  road  ;  and  independently  of  the  safety  of 
the  patent  box,  in  which  the  arm  of  the  axle-tree  rests, 
the  lubrication  of  it  by  the  constant  flow  of  oil,  by 
reducing  friction,  is  nearly  equal  to  half  a  horse's 
draught.  I  am  quite  sure,  then,  that  it  adds  much  to  the 
pleasure  of  the  members  of  those  clubs,  and  to  other 
amateurs  of  the  coach-box,  to  reflect  that,  whilst  driving 
their  own  fine  and  well-appointed  teams,  they  are  affording 
instruction  and  example  to  their  humbler  and  hard- 
working fellow- creatures,  as  well  as  performing  a  patriotic 
and  public  good  ;  and  as  for  the  too  common  but  erroneous 
opinion  amongst  certain  classes  of  society,  that  a  man 
cannot  frequent  a  public  coach-box  without  being  morbidly 
infected  in  manners  and  good  taste,  by  coming  in  contact 
with  one  very  much  his  inferior,  the  notion  is  too  absurd 
for  even  a  comment.  Did  the  learned  Dr.  Paley  suffer, 
either  in  his  manners  or  his  morals,  by  conversing,  as  was 
his  custom,  with  every  artificer  he  could  get  hold  of  in  his 
walks  ?  No,  the  case  is  quite  otherwise  ;  and  those  public 
coachmen  who  have  come  most  in  contact  with  amateurs 
in  their  line,  are  uniformly  improved  by  so  doing  ; — they 
are  better  coachmen  and  better  men.  You  hear  from 
them  no  ill  language,  no  gross  and  offensive  expressions 
— to  the  female  ear  especially  ;  and  what  is  of  still  more 
importance,  you  are  not  disgusted  by  insolence  to  the 
inferior  class  of  passengers  on  their  coaches  ;  neither  are 
your  feelings  outraged  by  unnecessary  cruelty  to  the 
animals  placed  under  their  control,  and,  by  consequence, 
at  their  mercy.      I  was  gratified,  indeed,  by  an  answer 


THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN        317 

strongly  corroborative  of  what  I  have  asserted,  which  I 
lately  received  from  one  of  them  to  my  remark,  that  a 
leader  in  his  team  trotted  along  before  the  bars,  doing 
little  beyond  carrying  her  harness.  '  She  cannot  work, 
Sir  John,'  said  her  coachman ;  '  there  is  nothing  left  in 
her  but  a  good  heart,  and  I  do  not  like  to  whij)  that  out 
of  her.'  I  made  no  reply  ;  but  I  silently  put  up  a  prayer, 
that  neither  the  head  nor  the  heart  of  that  man  might 
ache  on  this  side  of  eternity,  and  that  the  humane 
expression  would  be  found  booked  to  his  credit  on  the 
other." 

"  You  have  advocated  your  cause  ably,"  said  Goodall ; 
"  and  although  no  coachman  myself,  I  can  neither  discern 
folly,  nor  anything  approaching  to  impropriety,  in  gentle- 
men driving  their  own  coaches,  and  entering  scientifically 
into  the  pursuit,  as  others  do  by  that  of  the  turf.  All 
that  I  have  read  on  the  subject  upholds  them.  If  the 
Athenians,  for  example,  the  most  polished  nation  of  all 
antiquity,  deemed  it  a  feather  in  their  caps  to  be  esteemed 
skilful  charioteers,  why  should  Englishmen  consider  it  a 
disgrace  ?  Does  not  Homer  make  his  Nestor  the  wisest 
man  and  the  best  coachman  of  his  day  ?  Does  he  not 
make  Priam  put,  with  his  own  hands,  his  own  horses  to  the 
car  in  which  himself  and  the  herald  demand  the  body  of 
Hector  ?  Is  he  not  blamed,  indeed,  for  dwelling  upon 
the  description  of  Juno's  chariot,  whilst  his  reader 
expects  him  to  lead  him  into  the  thickest  of  the 
battle  ?— 

'For  why  should  Homer  deck  the  gorgeous  car, 
When  our  raised  souls  are  eager  for  the  war? 
Or  dwell  on  every  wheel,  when  loud  alarms, 
And  Mars,  in  thunder,  call  the  hosts  to  arms  ? ' 

But  is  he  not  so  minutely  faithful  to  this  part  of  his 
subject,  that,  at  the  funeral  games  of  Patroclus,  he  re- 
presents Menelaus  borrowing  one  of  the  horses  of 
Agamemnon  (^the,  by  name,  I  think)  to  put  to  his 
chariot  with  his  own  ?  Has  not  the  sublimest  poet  that 
ever  dipped  pen  into  ink  immortalized  the  coachman 
in  song?  Allow  me,  then,  to  propose  that  we  drink 
a  bumper  to  '  Success  to  the  Road  ! — and  to  all  who 
patronise  and  support  it.'" 

"  With  all  my  heart,"  said  the  host. 

"  And  with  all  mine,"  said  Mr.  Warburton,  uncle  to  the 


3i8        THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN 

host,  and  who  was  one  of  the  party.  "  In  my  younger 
days  I  was  always  an  inside  passenger  whenever  I  chanced 
to  travel  by  a  stage-coach  ;  but  now  I  pay  extra  for  the 
box-place,  or  a  front  seat  on  the  roof,  for  the  purpose  of 
hearing  the  shrewd  and  often  witty  remarks  of  the 
coachman  to  those  whom  he  has  occasion  to  address,  either 
in  his  calling  or  otherwise.  But  a  friend  of  mine  thus 
accounts  for  this  shrewdness,  as  well  as  quickness  and 
suitableness  of  reply  : — '  It  is  the  'pace  that  does  it,^  said  he 
— ^  the  increased  pace  at  which  they  travel,  and  quickness 
of  their  changes  of  horses  on  the  road,  which  are  every 
day  becoming  more  extraordinary.  Philosophers  tell  us,' 
added  he,  '  that  wit  consists  in  quickly  assembling  our 
ideas,  and  putting  them  together  in  an  instantJ  Now,  as 
analogy  is  but  the  resemblance  between  things,  with 
regard  to  circumstances  or  effects,  may  there  not  be 
something  akin  to  analogy  betwixt  putting  ideas  together 
quickly,  and  taking  one  set  of  horses  from,  and  putting 
another  set  to  a  coach  in  little  more  than  sixty  seconds  of 
time  ?  Certainly,  as  far  as  my  experience  has  gone,  the 
faster  the  coach,  the  more  sharp  and  ready  has  been  its 
coachman  with  all  his  remarks  and  replies,  and  compress- 
ing what  they  have  to  say  in  as  small  a  space  as  possible  ; 
and  I  witnessed,  a  short  time  back,  one  very  laughable 
instance  of  it.  At  the  first  change  out  of  London,  after 
the  coach  had  stopped,  perhaps  three-fourths  of  a  minute, 
a  passenger  put  his  head  out  of  the  window,  and  asked 
the  coachman  if  he  could  have  some  breakfast.  '  Yes,  sir,' 
he  replied  (he  was  at  that  moment  in  the  act  of  gathering 
the  reins  into  his  hand,  the  fresh  horses  having  been  put 
to  the  coach), '  if  you  can  eat  it  whilst  I  can  count  twenty ' ; 
and,  springing  on  to  his  box,  he  was  off,  leaving  his 
passenger  to  his  meditations." 

It  was  in  the  course  of  this  summer  that  our  hero  first 
attended  the  renowned  Bibury  race-meeting,  then  in  the 
zenith  of  its  glory,  and  he  was  elected  one  of  its  members 
nemine  contradicente.  In  fact,  he  was  exactly  the  sort  of 
person  calculated  for  it.  In  the  first  place,  there  was  no 
lack  of  means ;  in  the  next,  he  had  purchased  a  horse  in 
training,  said  to  be  likely  to  win  what  is  called  the 
"Welter  Stakes,"  the  best  of  the  meeting,  and  so  called, 
because  the  weight  carried  was  thirteen  stone  for  all  ages. 
And  he  had  a  twofold  object  in  view,  with  respect  to  this 
horse.     If  he  did  not  win  the  stakes,  he  was  convinced  he 


THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN        319 

would 'make  him  a  capital  liimter,  from  his  great  power 
and  size.  But  who  was  to  be  his  jockey  ?  "I  will  ride 
him  myself,"  said  he  ;  "I  can  ride  the  weight  on  a  light 
saddle." 

"  Surely  not,"  observed  Hargrave  ;  "  you  never  rode  a 
race  in  your  life  ;  and  you  are  aware  that  you  will  have  to 
contend  against  all  the  best  gentlemen  jockeys  of  the  day."^ 

"  There  must  be  a  beginning  to  everything,"  replied 
Frank  Kaby,  "  as  well  as  an  end.  It  is  true  I  have  never 
ridden  a  race,  but  I  have  seen  many  ridden,  and  heard 
the  instructions  given  to  the  jockeys,  who  tried  my  twa 
Oaks  fillies  twice,  in  private ;  and  also  when  they  came 
to  the  post.  I  know  pretty  well  what  a  horse  can  do 
under  such  a  weight  as  mine." 

"  And  have  you  backed  your  horse  to  win  ?  "  resumed 
Hargrave. 

"  Only  to  a  small  amount,"  replied  Raby — "just  enough 
to  give  me  an  additional  interest  in  the  race.  I  have 
taken  200  to  20  against  him  from  O'Hara  the  '  leg,'  whom 
you  see  there  on  the  grey  horse,  with  winkers  to  his  bridle." 

It  was  at  this  period  that  George  IV.,  when  Prince  of 
Wales,  was  a  constant  attendant  of  Bibury  race-course, 
being  domiciled  for  the  week  at  the  Earl  of  Sherborne's, 
whose  mansion  and  park  are  about  four  miles  distant 
from  the  course — a  beaiitiful  grass  drive  leading  from  one 
to  the  other.  As  his  Royal  Highness  had  a  horse  in  the 
stakes,  he  was  anxious  to  see  his  competitors,  and  at 
length  cast  his  eye  upon  Nameless,  which  was  the  name  of 
our  hero's  nag. 

"  What  horse  is  that  1 "  demanded  the  Prince. 

"  Nameless,  by  King  Fergus,  out  of  Mary,  by  Herod," 
was  the  answer. 

"  He  is  a  fine  horse,"  continued  the  Prince  ;  "  who  rides 
him?" 

"His  owner,  Mr.  Raby,  our  new  member,  sir,"  said 
Colonel  Leigh. 

"  Oh,"  said  the  Prince  smilingly  ;  "  we  have  not  much 
to  fear  from  him ;  he  is  a  fine  young  man,  and,  I  hear, 
very  good  across  a  country,  for  his  years,  but,  if  it  comes 
to  a  race,  he  will  have  a  poor  chance  against  Lord  Solville, 
and  half  a  dozen  of  the  old  hands  that  are  here  to-day." 

We  will,  however,  repeat  the  communication  between 
our  hero  and  his  trainer,  an  hour  before  the  race,  and  then, 
give  the  result. 


320        THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN 

"  Now,  sir,  if  you  please,"  said  his  trainer,  "  the  bell 
has  rung  for  saddling,  and  you  will  soon  be  at  work. 
Excuse  my  saying  a  word  or  two  to  you  before  starting, 
as  it  will  be  too  late  afterwards.  Your  horse  is  well,  and 
that  is  a  great  point,  and  I  think  he  will  run  a  good  horse. 
But  pray  don't  be  in  too  big  a  hurry  to  get  home,  which 
is  the  great  fault  of  all  young  race-riders.  Your  horse 
will  be  in  a  hurry,  for  he  is  a  free  goer  in  his  work  ;  but 
you  have  strength  enough  to  keep  him  back.  But  mind 
this,  above  all  things— don't  lie  out  of  your  ground,  but 
get  away  with  the  front  horses,  and  keep  with  them  as 
long  as  you  can,  and  head  them  at  last,  if  you  are  able.  I 
do  not  think  you  can  win  ;  nevertheless,  do  not  throw 
away  a  chance.  Take  three  good  pulls  at  your  horse,  the 
last  within  a  distance  of  home,  and  if  this  plan  will  not 
enable  you  to  win,  it  will  he  your  horse's  fault,  and  not 
your  own.  Now,  let  me  give  you  a  leg ;  and  when  I 
have  mounted  my  hack,  you  shall  give  your  horse  a  gallop 
with  me,  to  let  him  feel  his  legs.  It  need  not  be  a  long 
one,  for  thirteen  stone  is  a  cruel  weight  on  a  race-horse." 

"  It  is  so,"  rej^lied  Eaby ;  "  but  I  approve  of  the 
principle;  it  encourages  the  breeding  of  powerful 
thorough-bred  horses,  which  at  present  are  very  scarce. 
I  was  at  Newmarket  in  the  Craven  meeting,  and  I  did 
not  see  half  a  dozen  horses  in  training,  equal  to  my 
weight  over  a  country." 

Now  then  for  the  race.  Fourteen  horses  came  to  the 
post,  and,  after  one  false  start,  all  got  away  except  one, 
who  reared  and  fell  back  upon  his  rider,  but  without 
materially  injuring  him.  Our  hero,  upon  Nameless,  got 
a  good  place  in  the  ruck,  which  he  kept  three  parts  of  the 
way,  riding  strictly  to  orders.  In  fact,  he  looked  very 
much  like  a  winner  half  a  mile  from  home,  his  hands 
being  quietly  down,  and  the  fourth  out  of  six  that  were 
in  front,  with  all  the  rest  beaten  off. 

"Nameless  is  winning,"  roars  O'Hara  ;  "by  the  powers 
but  I  shall  lose  my  £200  !  " 

But  Nameless  did  not  win.  His  rider  let  him  loose  too 
soon,  and,  forgetting  the  advice  of  his  trainer,  to  give  him 
the  third  pull,  was  beaten  a  clear  length  by  the  two  leading 
horses,  who  contested  the  race  to  a  head — the  Prince's 
horse  winning  by  the  admirable  jockey  ship  of  Lord 
Solville. 

And  now  for  the  scene  at  the  scales. 


THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN        321 

"  You  made  but  one  mistake,  sir,"  said  his  trainer  ; 
"  and  that  was  a  fatal  one.  Had  you  recollected  what  I 
told  you,  and  pulled  back,  or,  I  should  rather  say,  eased, 
your  horse  a  little  within  200  yards  from  home,  you  could 
not  have  lost  the  race.  Depend  on  it,  you  have  the  best 
horse  of  the  field,  but  you  were  beaten  by  being  outridden 
by  my  Lord  and  Mr.  Burrell,  as  I  feared  you  would  be, 
if  it  came  to  a  race,  which  it  did.  I  never  saw  finer  riding 
at  Newmarket  than  what  my  Lord  showed  us  to-day.  He 
took  a  pull  at  his  horse  not  a  hundred  yards  from  home, 
and  won  his  race  by  so  doing,  for  the  other  horse  had  the 
best  of  it  up  to  that  time.  Only  think  what  a  thing  a 
pull  must  be  to  a  horse  at  the  end  of  two  miles,  with 
thirteen  stone  on  his  back,  and  in  such  a  fast-run  race 
as  this  ! " 

"I  certainly  lost  the  race,"  replied  our  hero,  "by 
omitting  the  pull  within  the  distance,  according  to  your 
directions  ;  but  the  fact  was,  my  horse  appeared  to  me  to 
be  running  over  his  horses,  pulling  so  very  hard,  that, 
thinking  I  had  the  race  in  hand,  I  was  unwilling  to  pull 
him  back,  from  fear  of  putting  him  out  of  his  stroke,  or 
causing  him  to  change  his  leg." 

"  Well,  sir,"  resumed  the  trainer,  "  the  mischief  is  done 
now,  and  it  cannot  be  undone.  I  told  you,  your  horse 
was  well,  and  that  he  would  run  a  good  horse  ;  but  mind 
this  in  future — do  not  only  not  forget  the  pull  at  the 
proper  time  and  place,  but  likewise  that  some  horses  pull 
hardest  when  they  are  most  beaten.  Your  horse,  how- 
ever, was  not  beaten  ;  all  he  wanted  was  a  moment's  ease, 
when  he  would  have  come  again,  and  headed  his  horses  in 
style." 

It  is  in  the  nature  of  emulation  to  know  no  bounds. 
Our  hero  was  by  no  means  satisfied  with  his  own  per- 
formance ;  and  excited  a  little  by  the  remarks  of  some  of 
the  party  with  whom  he  dined  after  the  race,  that  his 
horse  could  have  won  the  Welter  if  he  had  had  a  better 
jockey  on  his  back,  resolved  on  attempting  to  redeem  his 
credit.  Sending  for  his  trainer,  then,  he  thus  addressed 
him  : — 

"  I  should  like  to  run  the  race  over  again  which  I  lost 
to-day  ;  I  think  I  can  beat  both  those  horses  by  a  diff"erent 
system  of  riding.  I  wish  you  would  see  the  trainer  of 
each  as  soon  as  possible,  and  propose  a  match — same 
weight  and  distance — for  500  guineas  a  side.  Try  the 
21 


322        THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN 

Prince's  man  first,  and,  if  he  decline,  make  the  same 
proposal  to  the  trainer  of  the  second  horse." 

"  I  must  obey  your  orders,  of  course,  sir,"  replied  the 
trainer,  "  but  allow  me  first  to  ask  you  how  you  mean  to 
ride  your  horse,  should  your  offer  be  accepted  ?  " 

"  I  mean  to  make  running  from  end  to  end,  and  not  ta 
wait,  as  I  did  before,"  answered  our  young  sportsman  ^ 
"  I  am  convinced  that  my  horse  was  the  stoutest  in  the 
race  yesterday,  and  that,  if  I  had  made  strong  running 
with  him  from  the  post,  I  should  have  cut  down  my 
competitors," 

"Well,  sir,"  replied  the  trainer,  "I  will  go  and  see 
what  I  can  do  to  forward  your  wishes,  but  I  think  it  my 
duty  to  tell  you  that,  for  a  young  jockey,  you  are  about 
to  undertake " 

"  We  will  talk  about  your  duty,  &c.,  at  another  time,'* 
said  Eaby  ;  "  go  directly  and  see  the  trainers,  as  they  soon 
will  be  in  bed.  Send  for  me  out  of  the  club-room,  and 
tell  me  what  they  say." 

In  less  than  half  an  hour,  the  following  result  was 
conveyed  to  him  : — 

"  I  have  seen  both  trainers,  Mr.  Eaby,"  said  Mr.  Lilly, 
for  that  was  the  name  of  the  artist  who  brought  Nameless 
to  the  post.  "The  Prince's  man  declines,  as  his  horse 
has  a  heavy  match  over  his  head  ;  but  Bliss  says,  he 
doubts  not  but  that  Mr.  Portmore  will  accept  your 
challenge,  and  that  you  shall  have  his  answer  in  the 
morning.  But,  sir,"  continued  Lilly,  "  had  you  not 
better  consider  further  before " 

"  No  time  for  considering  now,"  said  our  hero  ;  "  I  must 
return  to  my  party,  and  will  see  you  in  the  morning." 

As  our  hero  sat  at  his  breakfast,  in  company  with  his 
friends  Inkleton,  Hargrave,  and  Goodall,  the  following 
note  was  brought  him  : — 

"  Sir, — My  trainer  informs  me  that  you  propose  a 
match  between  Nameless  and  Antonio,  same  weights  and 
distance,  as  likewise  riders,  as  for  the  Welter  yesterday, 
for  500  guineas,  p.  p.  I  admire  your  spirit  in  making 
this  offer,  after  the  event  of  yesterday,  but,  being  an  older 
man  than  yourself,  and  somewhat  more  experienced, 
perhaps,  in  racing  affairs,  I  think  it  only  fair  to  say  that 
I  ought  to  give  you  three  pounds.  On  these  conditions, 
my  horse  shall  be  at  the  post  on  Thursday,  after  the  last 


THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN        323 

race  of  the  day. — Your  early  answer  will  oblige,  yours 
faithfully,  &c., 

"  A.  PORTMORE. 
"To  Fbancis  Kaby,  Esq." 

"  Well,"  exclaimed  Sir  John  Inkleton,  "  Portmore  acts, 
as  he  always  acts,  the  part  of  an  honourable  man."' 

"  The  three  pounds  may  give  you  the  race,"  exclaimed 
Hargrave  ;  "  but  don't  forget  the  pull." 

"  I  will  back  you  for  a  pound  or  two,"  said  Goodall, 
"although  I  know  so  little  of  racing  as  to  be  almost 
incredulous  as  to  three  pounds  being  an  advantage  worth 
speaking  about  in  such  a  weight  as  you  propose  to  carry." 

"  My  good  fellow,"  said  Fairfax,  who  entered  the  room 
at  that  moment,  "  the  key  of  the  stable-door  once  lost  the 
trial  between  two  of  the  iirst  race-horses  of  the  day." 

"An  old  woman's  story,"  exclaimed  our  hero  ;  "but 
(pulling  the  bell  hastily  at  the  moment)  I'll  have  none  of 
his  three  pounds.  I'll  run  the  match  at  evens,  and  lay 
another  £500  I  win  it." 

On  the  waiter  appearing  with  some  letter-paper,  and 
being  ordered  to  send  immediately  for  Lilly,  the  following 
answer  was  penned,  and  as  instantly  despatched  to  Mr. 
Portmore : — 

"  Dear  Sir, — I  feel,  as  I  ought  to  feel,  the  handsome 
conditions  on  which  you  oifer  to  accejDt  my  challenge  to 
run  Antonio  against  Nameless,  on  Thursday,  same  weight, 
&c.  &c.,  as  in  the  Welter  stakes  ;  but  so  satisfied  am  I 
that,  as  far  as  concerned  my  horse,  it  was  yesterday,  from 
end  to  end,  a  false  run  race,  that  I  am  unwilling  to  alter 
the  terms  proposed  by  me.  Should  I  be  beaten,  myself 
alone  will  be  to  blame  ;  and  it  may  act  as  a  salutary 
lesson  to  me  through  life,  not  to  persist  in  my  own  opinion 
contrary  to  that  of  those  who  are  more  experienced  than 
myself.  I  herewith  send  you  the  articles  of  the  match, 
signed  on  my  part,  and  on  your  signature  being  attached, 
my  horse  shall  be  at  the  post  on  the  day,  and  at  the  time 
stated  in  your  letter. — Believe  me,  dear  Sir,  faithfully 
and  obliged, 

"  Francis  Raby. 

"To  the  Hon.  A.  Portmore,"  &c.  &c. 

Within  another  half -hour,  the  parties  met  in  the  street, 
and  our  hero  was  informed  by  his  antagonist  that  the 


324       THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN 

articles  of  the  match  were  signed,  and  already  in  the 
hands  of  the  steward ;  and  in  ten  minutes  more,  the 
following  conversation  took  place  between  the  owner  of 
Nameless  and  his  trainer  : — 

"  Well,  sir,"  said  Mr.  Lilly,  "  I  find  you  have  made 
your  match,  and  I  wish  we  may  pull  through.  I  find 
you  will  not  have  the  three  pounds.  I  think,  sir,  you 
should  have  taken  it.  Never  throw  away  a  chance  in 
racing.  Three  pounds  at  such  high  weight,  to  be  sure,  is 
not  much  to  get,  but  it  is  something.  They  are  betting 
six  to  four  against  us  in  the  town,  and  I  daresay  it  will 
be  seven." 

"  So  much  the  better,"  replied  Kaby,  "  as  I  may  be  able 
to  hedge  some  of  my  money,  if  I  alter  my  opinion  of  the 
event  by  to-morrow — not  that  I  think  it  likely  I  shall  do 
so.  But  what  is  it,  Lilly,  that  you  consider  your  duty  to 
tell  me,  respecting  the  match  ?  " 

"  Why,  sir,"  replied  Lilly,  "  if  I  understand  you  right, 
you  are  going  to  perform  almost  the  most  difficult  act  a 
jockey  is  called  upon  to  perform.  Nothing,  next  to  the 
struggle  of  the  few  last  yards  between  two  horses  very 
nearly  equal — which  we  call  the  set-to — is  so  difficult  in 
racing  horsemanship  as  making  running  by  a  jockey, 
solely  for  the  benefit  of  the  horse  he  himself  is  riding. 
In  other  words,  it  requires  the  experience  of  some  years 
in  a  jockey  to  be  a  good  judge  of  pace,  that  is,  of  not 
merely  the  pace  he  himself  is  going,  but  how  that  pace 
affects  other  horses  in  the  race.  And  this  task  is  more 
difficult  with  some  horses  than  with  others,  and  especially 
— though  this  will  not  be  your  case — with  idle  or  lurching 
horses,  which,  when  leading,  require  urging  by  the  hand 
or  the  leg  every  yard  they  go.  In  this  case,  the  jockey 
works  hard  to  keep  his  horse  going.  He  has  to  use  his 
hands,  arms,  legs,  and  feet,  and  occasionally  to  turn  his 
head  round,  with  all  his  limbs  in  action  at  one  and  the 
same  moment,  and  yet  not  disturb  his  horse's  action  ;  and 
all  this  in  addition  to  great  anxiety  of  mind  lest  he  should 
upset  his  horse,  and  so  lose  the  race.  I  have  heard  Frank 
Buckle  say,  at  Newmarket,  that  he  never  knows  what  it 
is  to  be  miserable  except  when  he  has  to  make  running 
over  the  Beacon  course,  with  Sam  Chifney  and  William 
Clift  behind  him." 

We  will  now  bring  our  hero  to  the  post,  having  profited 
by  the  sensible  remarks  of  his  trainer  so  far  as  to  make 


THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN        325 

him  aware  that  he  had  taken  upon  himself  a  hazardous- 
task  ;  but  feeling  convinced  in  his  own  mind  that  he  lost 
the  Welter  by  not  making  running,  he  was  now  resolved 
to  do  so,  it  being  his  only  chance  to  win. 

"  Is  your  book  full,  sir  1 "  said  one  of  the  betting 
fraternity  to  him,  as  he  was  about  to  mount  his  horse> 

"I  have  no  book  on  the  occasion,"  was  the  answer  ;  "I 
have  not  a  shilling  on  the  event,  except  the  500  on  the 
match." 

"  I'll  bet  you  6  to  4  against  your  horse,  sir — 120  to  80' 
if  you  please,  sir,"  resumed  the  leg. 

"  No,''  answered  Raby,  in  somewhat  of  a  surly  tone,  and 
he  was  immediately  lifted  into  his  saddle.  As  he  rode- 
quietly  out  of  the  crowd,  towards  an  open  part  of  the- 
course,  on  which  he  could  give  his  horse  a  gallop,  he  was- 
thus  addressed  by  his  trainer  : — 

"  Now,  sir,  it  will  be  a  great  event  in  your  life  if  you 
can  beat  this  crack  horse  with  so  good  a  jockey  as  Mr. 
Burrell  on  his  back.  All  I  can  say  of  your  horse  is,  he- 
is  well — better,  I  think,  than  he  was  on  Tuesday  ;  and  I 
question  whether  Antonio  has  quite  forgotten  Tuesday's 
race.  Then  you  will  have  an  advantage  to-day,  if  you 
mean  to  make  running,  which  you  had  not  on  Tuesday.. 
You  will  be  able  to  make  your  turns — and  there  are 
plenty  of  them  on  this  course — without  losing  ground,, 
which  you  did  on  Tuesday  among  the  crowd.  But  pray,, 
sir,  don't  forget  the  pull  a  short  distance  from  home.  I 
have  backed  you  for  a  hundred." 

"  No  fear  of  that,"  replied  our  hero  ;  "  but  if  it  comes 
to  a  very  near  thing  at  the  last,  should  I  use  my  whip,  or- 
only  spur  my  horse  ? " 

"  Why,  sir,"  said  Lilly,  "all  good  jockeys  avoid  the  use- 
of  the  whip  as  much  as  possible.  When  a  race-horse  is  in. 
the  fullest  exercise  of  his  powers,  and  doing  his  best,  it 
is  unnecessary,  for  it  cannot  make  him  do  more;  but  a. 
severe  blow  from  a  whip  often  does  harm,  particularly  if 
it  falls  under  the  flank,  which  is  a  very  tender  place,  on 
account  of  the  thinness  of  the  skin.  Instead  of  its  having; 
the  effect  of  making  a  horse  extend  himself  over  a  large 
surface  of  ground,  it  may  have  quite  a  contrary  effect,, 
from  his  '  shutting  himself  up,'  as  we  call  it,  or  shrinking; 
to  avoid  the  blows.  The  spur,  properly  used,  is  a  much 
better  instrument  for  increasing  the  speed  of  a  horse,, 
although  there  are  times  when  the  application  of  the  whip^ 


326        THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN 

or  tlie  mere  act  of  flourishing  it  in  the  hand,  is  eminently- 
serviceable  to  a  jockey — I  mean,  in  case  his  horse  swerves 
to  one  side  of  the  course  or  the  other,  or  towards  other 
horses  in  the  race,  or  exhibits  symptoms  of  running  out, 
or  bolting.  To  be  sure,  a  jockey  ought  to  be  able  to  use 
his  whip  with  vigour  when  necessary,  and,  like  Sam 
Chifney,  with  his  left  hand,  as  well  as  with  his  right,  in 
case  of  his  losing  what  is  called  the  whip  hand,  when  he 
cannot  use  it  at  all  with  his  right.  I  would,  however, 
recommend  you,  sir,  not  to  use  your  whip  at  all.  Yours 
is  a  free-going  horse  ;  he  will  run  his  own  race ;  all  you 
have  to  do  will  be  to  take  care  not  to  upset  him  ;  and,  if 
it  comes  to  a  struggle  at  the  last,  try  what  the  spur  will 
do.  I  tell  all  young  jockeys,  especially,  that  they  may  do 
more  harm  by  letting  go  one  hand  from  the  bridle,  to  use 
the  whip,  than  the  whip  does  good.  Hold  your  horse  hard 
by  the  head  to  the  last  ;  shake  him  by  the  head  to  rouse 
him,  if  it  comes  to  a  near  thing,  and  give  him  a  few  digs 
with  your  spurs." 

The  crowd  at  the  starting-post  evinced  the  interest 
which  this  race  created,  and  several  opinions  were  ex- 
pressed. 

"  The  young  one  is  a  bold  man,"  said  the  Prince,  "  to 
-attempt  to  tackle  George  Burrell,  and  on  a  beaten  horse." 

"And  to  refuse  the  three  pounds!"  exclaimed  a  by- 
stander. 

"  Bring  the  young  one  in  handsomely,  George,"  said  a 
third. 

"  They  are  off  !  Ha  !  ha  !  "  exclaimed  an  old  hand  on 
the  turf  ;  "  the  young  one  means  to  make  short  work  of 
it." 

"  A  short  life  and  a  merry  one,"  said  another,  who  had 
laid  7  to  4  against  him  in  fifties. 

"  Don't  be  too  sure  of  that,"  exclaimed  Lilly  ;  "  the 
blood  of  King  Fergus  and  Herod  is  no  bad  cross." 

"  If  he  can  live  that  pace  home,"  said  one  who  had 
taken  the  odds,  "  he  will  do  :  the  young  one  seems  to  know 
•what  he  is  about." 

In  the  form  in  which  they  started — the  young  one  taking 
the  lead,  followed  very  closely  by  Mr.  Burrell — did  they 
continue  this  most  interesting  and,  strange  to  say,  heavy 
betting  race  for  the  first  mile  and  a  half,  our  hero  being 
observed  to  keep  a  steady  pull  upon  his  horse,  without 
the  least  appearance  of  having  upset  him  by  the  severe 


THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN        327 

play  he  had  made,  looking  back  at  his  opponent,  when  a 
good  opportunity  presented  itself,  after  the  manner  of  an 
experienced  jockey,  and  sitting  as  tight  and  steady  on  his 
saddle  as  though  he  and  his  horse  were  one.  At  the  last 
turn  of  the  course,  a  good  half-mile  from  home,  alarm 
became  apparent  in  those  who  had  backed  him  to  lose, 
and  exclamations  such  as  these  were  heard  : — 

"  The  young  one's  hands  are  doum,"  says  one. 

"  Yes,  and  quiet,"  observes  another. 

"  I'll  bet  an  even  hundred  on  the  young  one,"  roars 
O'Hara. 

"  Done  with  you,"  says  Lord  Marley. 

"  I'll  bet  6  to  4  on  the  young  one,"  roars  Nightingale, 
with  a  small  telescope  to  his  eye  ;  no  one  answered. 

"  It's  all  over  but  shouting,"  exclaims  Lilly  ;  "  Antonio's 
as  dead  as  a  hammer." 

Now,  then,  for  the  result.  The  trainer's  figure  of  speech 
was  not  carried  out  to  the  letter.  Antonio  was  not  dead, 
but  only  dead  beat.  In  fact,  he  was  beaten  in  the  first 
mile,  and  our  hero  came  in  a  clear  length  in  front,  and 
without  stirring  a  hand,  still  less  a  foot.  The  congratula- 
tions of  his  friends  were  boundless,  as  he  approached  the 
scales  to  weigh,  and  his  trainer,  Mr.  Lilly,  seemed  as  happy 
as  if  he  had  won  the  Derby. 

"  This  will  do,"  said  he  to  a  friend,  as  he  led  Nameless 
from  the  scales  ;  "  we  shall  have  this  young  one  another  time. 
But  upon  my  soul  he  has  surprised  me  ;  he  seems  to  want 
no  teaching.  How  like  an  old  one  he  talks,  and  how  well 
he  rode  this  race  !  " 

And  what  said  the  renowned  George  Burrell,  nearly  the 
best  of  the  Bibury  jockeys  ? 

"  The  Prince  was  in  luck,"  said  he,  "  to  win  the  Welter, 
with  a  better  horse  in  the  race.  Had  it  been  run  as  this 
has  been  run.  Nameless  would  have  been  a  length  before 
us  all,  and  hard  held  too.  He  is  an  extraordinary  horse, 
you  may  depend  upon  it.  Try  and  buy  him,"  said  he,  in 
a  whisper,  to  a  friend  who  was  by  his  side  ;  "he  will  win 
the  Welter  next  year,  to  a  certainty.  I  could  not  more 
than  live  with  him  the  first  mile  and  a  half,  and  as  to 
heading  him  afterAvards,  that  was  out  of  the  question. 
And  he  was  not  badly  ridden." 

"  Bravo,  Frank  !  "  exclaimed  Hargrave  ;  "you  won  your 
race  in  style.  Pity  is  it  that  you  cannot  ride  lighter,  for 
you  would  make  a  capital  jockey  in  a  very  short  time." 


328        THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN 

"Who  would  have  thought  it?"  grumbled  O'Hara ; 
"  bad  luck  to  the  garran  that  I  backed  !  " 

"  Garran  !  "  exclaimed  Lord  Marley  ;  "  Nameless  is  the 
best  horse  of  the  year  at  this  weight.  I  wish  he  were 
mine." 

"  I  beg  your  pardon,  Mr.  Eaby,"  said  Colonel  Leigh, 
approaching  our  hero,  as  he  walked  away  from  the  weigh- 
ing-stand ;  "  the  Prince  wishes  to  know  whether  you  are 
disposed  to  part  with  your  horse,  and,  if  so,  you  will  be 
pleased  to  name  your  price." 

"  Present  my  duty  to  the  Prince,  sir,"  replied  Raby, 
"  and  please  to  tell  his  Royal  Highness  Nameless  is  not  for 
sale.     I  intend  to  make  a  hunter  of  him." 

"  What  ? "  exclaimed  Fairfax,  who  was  at  his  elbow, 
"  make  a  hunter  of  a  horse  that  could  have  won  one  of  the 
best  stakes  in  England  this  year,  and  is  nearly  certain  of 
winning  it  next  !  " 

"  He  shall  never  have  another  plate  on  his  foot,"  resumed 
our  hero  ;  "but  I  hope  to  see  many  a  good  fox  killed,  on 
his  back." 

It  is  written  of  Alcibiades,  the  Athenian  general,  that 
he  gave  an  entertainment  to  all  the  spectators  who  wit- 
nessed the  success  of  his  horses  in  winning  the  three  grand 
prizes  on  the  Olympic  race-course — a  snug  little  party,  if 
we  are  to  credit  the  accounts  given  of  the  multitudes 
assembled  on  such  occasions.  In  humble  imitation  of  so 
memorable  an  examjjle,  our  hero  gave  a  dinner,  on  the 
evening  of  his  victory  over  Antonio,  at  the  Bull  Inn,  in 
Burford,  to  a  large  party  of  his  acquaintances,  at  which, 
in  newspaper  phraseology,  "  the  utmost  conviviality  pre- 
vailed to  a  very  late  hour ; "  not  only,  indeed,  until  the 
cock  crowed  on  his  perch,  but  until  the  sun  peeped  through 
the  blood-red  curtains  of  the  bay-windowed  banqueting- 
room  of  the  said  Bull  Inn.  Champagne  at  a  guinea  a 
bottle,  and  claret  at  fifteen  shillings — the  prices  charged 
to  some  old,  and  to  all  young,  gentlemen  of  those  days,  at 
race  times  especially — flowed  like  water  from  the  limpid 
stream  ;  and  devilled  turkey  and  bishop,  after  the  Christ- 
church  fashion,  formed  the  topping- up  of  the  feast.  In 
short,  there  was  nothing  wanted  but  another  Euripides  to 
celebrate  the  day  by  an  ode. 

And  what  were  the  topics  of  the  evening  ?  Racing, 
and  nothing  else,  merely  occasionally  interrupted  by  a 
casual  remark  on  some  particular  toast.     And  what  the 


THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN        329 

pith  of  the  discussion  1  Why,  that  racing  was  very 
amusing  to  those  who  merely  witnessed  it,  but,  to  those- 
who  engaged  in  its  mysteries,  the  most  uncertain,  generally- 
unsatisfactory,  and  expensive  pursuit  that  a  gentleman: 
can  possibly  enter  into.  The  only  exception  to  this  opinion 
was  Fairfax  (a  hundred  thousand  pounds  the  worse  now, 
by-the-bye,  in  expectation,  by  his  father's  proceedings  on 
the  turf,  as  already  mentioned  in  these  pages),  who  declared, 
that  he  thought  every  man  who  possessed  money,  and  a. 
good  head  for  calculation,  7tiust  make  money  by  racing. 
"  Then  the  breeding  of  race-horses,"  added  he,  "  what  an> 
interesting  pursuit  is  that !  " 

"  Interesting,  indeed,"  said  Sir  John  Inkleton  ;  "but  I 
believe  the  calculation  is  a  hundred  and  lifty  per  cent.. 
loss  on  all  thorough-bred  stock,  as  far  as  their  own 
intrinsic  value  is  concerned.  What  they  may  do  when 
in  training  is  another  point,  unconnected  with  the  breed- 
ing of  them  ;  but  I  believe  the  calculation  is  not  more 
than  one  winner  in  twenty  that  come  to  the  post,  after 
all  charges  are  paid.  I  attended  a  sale  of  racing  colts 
a  short  time  back.  The  two-year  colts  and  fillies  averaged 
ninety-three  pounds  ;  the  yearlings  fifty-seven.  Not  one- 
of  the  lot  was  bred  and  reared  for  these  several  sums. 
And  now,  Frank," resumed  Sir  John,  "you know  you  were 
once  nicely  diddled  by  a  trainer  ;  are  you  certain  all  has 
been  right  throughout  with  Mr.  Lilly  and  Nameless  ? " 

"  I  have  no  reason  to  think  otherwise,"  replied  Frank. 

"  But  why  did  he  tell  you  to  wait  on  your  horses  in  the 
Welter  race,"  continued  the  Baronet,  "  when  you  found 
out,  by  experience  of  your  horse  in  only  one  race,  that  . 
stoutness,   and   not   speed,  was  the   best,  and   that,  had 
you  made  running,  and  not  waited,  you  would  have  won,, 
and  cleverly  too." 

"  He  must  be  a  fool,"  observed  our  hero. 

"  No  fool,"  resumed  Sir  John  ;  "  his  remarks  to  you 
on  the  second  day,  when  he  had  backed  your  horse  heavily 
to  win,  disproves  that  charge." 

"  Then  he  is  a  rogue,"  said  Eaby. 

"  I  do  not  go  that  length,"  said  Sir  John  ;  "  but  it  has  ^ 
an  awkward  appearance,  and  a  burnt  child  always  dreads 
the  fire."  ^ 

"Well,"  resumed  our  hero,  "whether  fool  or  rogue, 
concerns  me  but  little.  Before  this  time  to-morrow  his 
bill  will  be  discharged,  Nameless  will  be  on  the  road  to  • 


330        THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSiMAN 

Farndon,  and  my  racing  career  will  be  at  an  end.  In  the 
first  place,  I  do  not  understand  the  system,  and  I  have 
reason  to  believe  it  would  cost  me  a  very  large  sum  to  learn 
it.  In  the  next,  one  pursuit  of  this  nature  is  as  much  as 
any  man,  situated  as  I  am  situated,  ought  to  have  on  his 
hands  at  one  time  ;  in  my  opinion,  between  hunting  and 
racing  there  is  no  difficulty  in  the  choice.  In  the  one, 
every  man  you  meet  with  is  your  friend — in  the  other,  your 
foe  ;  which  a  rival  either  for  fame  or  money  must  more  or 
less  be  considered  to  be.  Besides,  I  am  very  partial  to  my 
KJoach-box,  as  well  as  to  the  humble  but  satisfactory 
pleasures  arising  from  a  country  life  ;  and,  what  is 
more,  one  day  or  another  I  hope  to  be  a  master  of  fox- 
hounds. I  confess  I  should  like  to  see  myself  the  winner 
of  a  Derby,  an  Oaks,  or  a  St.  Leger,  because  I  am  of 
opinion  that  wdien  once  a  man  enters  upon  any  pursuit, 
he  should  not  stop  until  he  have  exhibited  some  mark 
of  distinctive  excellence ;  but  the  odds  against  my 
accomplishing  either  of  these  hazardous  and  difficult 
undertakings  are  very  great  indeed.  Then  again,  I 
think  my  father  is  averse  to  my  being  on  the  turf :  he 
often  makes  his  boast  that,  with  the  exception  of  a 
nomination  to  a  cup  at  the  county  races,  the  name  of 
Eaby  has  never  been  associated  with  any  gambling 
speculation  whatsoever  ;  and,  although  j^ou  are  all  aware 
that  I  am  now  independent  of  him,  and  must  succeed  to 
his  estates,  should  I  survive  him,  I  should  violate  my 
ieelings  by  doing  anything  that  he  greatly  dislikes." 

"  Bravo  I  "  said  Sir  John.  "  Bravo  !  "  cried  Hargrave. 
"  Fox-hunting  and  the  coach-box  against  all  the  racing 
in  the  w^orld  !  "  resumed  the  former.  "  Fox-hunting  for 
.ever  !  "  exclaimed  Hargrave  ;  "  and  I  vote  that  we  clrink 
it  in  a  buraj)er."  The  bumper  was  drunk,  and  the  room 
I'ang  with  aj^plause. 

On  the  following  day,  this  meeting  closed  with  six  well- 
contested  races  for  stakes  amounting,  in  the  whole,  to 
£1100,  which,  when  looking  back  to  the  parent  meeting 
at  Burford,  when  the  horses  of  the  Dukes  of  Marlborough 
and  Beaufort,  Earls  Abingdon  and  Ossory,  Lords  Ched- 
worth  and  Oxford,  Messrs.  Vernon,  Dutton,  Pigot,  and 
Foley,  all  of  high  blood,  and  names  renowned  on  the 
turf,"  Avere  contending,  at  heats,  for  a  fifty-pound  plate, 
shows  what  rajDid  strides  racing  has  made  within  the  last 
seventy  years,  and  also  how  much  the  value  of  money  has 


THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN        331 

diminislied — at  all  events,  the  estimation  of  it  lessened 
by  that  description  of  persons.  But  nothing  in  the  shape 
of  a  race-meeting  could  have  been  more  delightful  than 
Bibury  was  at  the  time  in  which  our  hero  became  a 
member  of  the  club,  composed,  as  it  was,  of  the  first 
sporting  aristocracy  of  the  day,  with  the  heir-apparent  to 
the  crown  at  the  head  of  them,  on  his  cropped  roan  hack, 
with  merely  a  pad  groom  behind  him,  with  his  surtout 
strapped  to  his  back,  and  discoursing  with  his  associates  in 
all  the  affability  of  a  private  gentleman.  And  a  striking 
instance  of  this  occurred,  as  regarded  the  hero  of  our  tale. 

"  Introduce  Mr.  Raby  to  me,"  said  his  Royal  Highness 
to  Lord  Solville,  as  he  saw  him  approaching  him  on  the 
course  ;  "  he  is  a  fine  young  man,  and  I  am  glad  that  you 
have  got  him  into  the  club." 

The  introduction  took  place  on  the  spot,  and  the  Prince 
thus  expressed  himself,  in  his  usual  elegantly  familiar 
style,  upon  this  occasion  :  ^ — 

""  Well,  Mr.  Raby,  you  have  made  your  dehut  very  much 
to  your  satisfaction,  and  I  must  tell  you,  to  mine.  In  the 
first  place,  I  am  glad  that  you  have  become  a  member  of 
Bibury  ;  and,  in  the  next,  your  trainer  gave  me  the  Welter 
by  a  false  estimate  of  your  horse.  You  would  have  beaten 
me  if  you  had  not  waited  on  your  horses.  However,  a 
jockey  should  obe}^  orders,  you  know,  Mr.  Raby,  unless 
he  finds  a  very  good  reason  for  disregarding  them.  Lilly 
is  a  clever  fellow,  but  he  certainly  made  a  mistake,  which 
you  have  great  credit  for  correcting,  and  entirely  on  your 
own  judgment.  You  will  be  a  match  for  us  all  in  a  very 
short  time.  And  how  is  your  excellent  mother  1  I  knew 
Lady  Charlotte  Raby  well,  in  early  days,  and  once  danced 
a  minuet  with  her.     Pray  tell  her  I  inquired  after  her." 

"  You  do  her  great  honour,  sir,"  replied  Raby  ;  "  I  shall 
carefully  obey  your  Royal  Highness's  commands." 

"  So  you  are  going  to  make  a  hunter  of  Nameless," 
continued  the  Prince. 

"  I  am,  sir,"  answered  our  hero. 

"And  a  good  hunter  he  will  make,"  said  the  Prince, 
•"  with  so  good  a  horseman  on  his  back." 

Our  hero  bowed,  and  the  Prince  moved  on. 

1  There  is  every  reason  to  believe  that  the  week  passed  by  the 
Prince,  during  Bibury  meeting,  when  he  felt  himself  thoroughly 
•divested  of  the  shackles  of  state  and  royalty,  was  to  him  the 
pleasantest  of  the  whole  year. 


332        THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN 

But  a  word  or  two  of  Lord  Solville,  who  was,  as  has 
been  stated,  at  the  Prince's  side  at  the  moment.  The 
Prince  had  a  horse  called  Ploughater,  that  was  a  most  diffi- 
cult horse  to  ride.  He  was  not  only  a  determined  hard 
puller  in  his  races,  but  went  very  much  on  his  shoulders, 
with  his  nose  nearly  sweeping  the  ground.  It  is  need- 
less to  observe  that  a  horse  of  this  description  required 
a  vast  deal  of  riding  ;  and  it  was  said  at  the  time 
that  no  member  of  the  club,  but  Lord  Solville,  could 
ride  him  as  he  ought  to  be  ridden,  and  hitherto  he  had 
never  lost  a  race  upon  him.  On  the  third  day  of  this 
meeting,  however,  his  Lordship  rode  him  to  his  cost.  So 
great  was  his  exertion  in  pulling  him  together,  in  rather 
a  sharply  contested  race,  that  no  sooner  had  he  dismounted 
from  his  back,  than  a  blood-vessel  burst  within  him. 
Medical  aid  was  resorted  to,  and  on  the  next  day  but  one 
his  Lordship  appeared  on  the  course,  on  his  hack,  with  a 
countenance  pale  and  wan,  indicative  of  the  loss  he  had 
sustained.  But  mark  the  pluck  of  the  man  !  Ploughater 
was  to  walk  over  for  a  stake,  and  his  Lordship  mounted 
him  for  the  purpose,  despite  of  the  remonstrance  of  his 
owner.  As  it  happened,  no  ill  consequences  were  the 
result.  His  Lordship  rode  as  usual  at  the  forthcoming 
meeting  at  Bibury,  and  in  a  style  seldom  excelled  by  the 
best  professional  jockeys  of  the  day,  and,  with  a  ducal 
coronet  over  his  head,  is  now  alive  and  heart-whole,  and 
as  good  a  specimen  of  an  English  Duke  as  England 
could  wish  to  see.  His  brother,  the  Hon.  George  German, 
second  only  to  him  in  the  gentleman's  racing-saddle,  has 
paid  the  debt  of  Nature  ;  but  many  of  what  may  be  called 
the  bond  fide  gentlemen  jockeys  of  those  days  are  now  alive 
and  well.i 

On  our  hero's  arrival  in  London,  he  found  the  following 
letter  from  his  father  : — 

1  The  gentlenieB  jockeys  of  that  day  underwent  all  the  priva- 
tions and  discipline  of  those  who  get  their  living  by  riding  races  ; 
and  it  has  been  observed,  that  the  greater  part  of  them  have 
preserved  their  health  and  vigour  to  an  extraordinary  degree. 
The  preparation  for  riding  races,  however,  if  not  carried  to  too 
great  an  extent,  is  allowed  to  be  most  salutary,  and  there  is  a 
passage  in  Xenophou's  Cyropaedia,  in  corroboration  of  this  fact. 
Cyrus  never  suffered  his  men  to  go  to  their  meals,  not  having  been 
siveated.  This,  it  appears,  was  effected  either  by  taking  them  out 
a-hunting,  or  by  inventing  such  sports  as  would  surely  cause  them 
to  sweat. 


THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN        333 

"My  Dear  Frank, — You  are  aware  that  it  was  the 
earnest  desire  of  your  late  uncle,  and  it  is  likewise  mine, 
that  you  should  occupy  a  seat  in  the  senate.  It  will  be  an 
admirable  introduction  into  good  society,  and  give  you 
an  importance  in  your  own  eyes  and  in  those  of  others,  to 
which,  by  circumstances,  you  are  entitled.  I  have  reason 
to  believe  a  v^ery  small  sum  will  secure  you  a  seat  for  the 
borough  of  Riply,  and  I  am  willing  to  find  the  needful. 
Let  me  request,  then,  that  you  will  immediately  proceed 
thither,  and  my  friend  Sir  Richard  Hartley  will  propose 
you  to  the  electors,  as  well  as  arrange  everything  that 
may  be  necessary  towards  securing  your  return  for  the 
borough.  Observe,  it  is  not  quite  a  close  borough  ;  but  I 
understand  there  will  be  no  opposition  to  anyone  put 
in  nomination  by  Sir  Richard.  We  are  all  well  here.  I 
have  heard  of  your  success  at  Bibury,  but  know  not 
whether  to  congratulate  you,  being  no  friend  to  the 
dangerous  pursuit  of  racing.  Out  of  five  of  my  fellow- 
collegians  who  have  pursued  it,  three  ruined  themselves 
past  recovery.  Reflect  upon  this,  and  let  me  have  your 
immediate  decision  respecting  Riply. — In  haste,  your 
affectionate  father, 

"  Andrew  Raby. 

"  Amstead  Abbey,  J^me  25th,  1809." 

The  following  reply  to  the  foregoing  epistle  was  de- 
spatched by  return  of  the  post : — 

"  My  Dear  Father, — It  would  ill  become  me  to  refuse 
complying,  in  any  respect,  with  the  '  earnest  desire '  of 
either  my  late  uncle  or  yourself.  I  have  only  to  say, 
then,  that,  although  I  have  not  the  slightest  wish  to  be  in 
Parliament,  nor  the  slightest  idea  that  I  shall  be  of  any 
use  when  I  am  there,  beyond  a  silent  vote,  nevertheless, 
I  am  willing  to  take  the  step  that  seems  so  near  to  your 
heart.  I  will  proceed  to  Riply  to-morrow,  or  next  day, 
and  of  course  you  will  write  to  Sir  Richard,  and  arrange 
all  things  necessary  with  him.  The  on  dit  here  is,  that  I 
am  to  be  opposed  by  a  rich  sugar-baker  from  the  city — if 
so,  money  will  be  wanted  beyond  the  mere  usual  expenses 
of  the  return  ;  and  I  honestly  tell  you  that,  after  having 
gained  a  victory  over  the  second  best  gentleman  jockey  at 
Bibury,  I  should  not  relish  being  beaten  by  a  city  sugar- 
baker  over  another  course — still  less  to  spend  my  own 


334       THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN 

monej'  in  the  contest.  To  use  your  own  words,  then, 
touching  racing,  '  reflect  on  this.'  Suppose,  when  we  come 
to  the  post,  it  should  be  6  to  9  on  the  sugar-baker,  and  I 
hear  he  is  not  only  very  rich,  but  a  very  sharp  fellow,  and 
can  make  use  of  his  tongue.  All  things  considered,  I  had, 
perhaps,  better  await  the  answer  to  this  letter  before  I  set 
forward  to  Riply. 

"Now  then  for  a  word  on  another  subject.  You  need 
not  longer  hesitate  as  to  your  offer  of  congratulation  on 
my  success  at  Bibury.  It  would  have  been  greater,  had  I 
used  my  own  judgment  in  opposition  to  that  of  my  trainer, 
and  I  should  have  won  the  great  prize  of  the  meeting,  in 
the  room  of  the  Prince  of  Wales.  To  show  you,  however, 
that  I  am  not  vain  of  my  triumph  over  either  horse  or 
man,  I  have  made  my  bow  to  the  turf,  leaving  it  to  those 
who  are  better  fitted  for  it  than  I  am — in  other  words,  to 
those  to  whose  tastes  it  is  more  congenial  than  I  have 
found  it  to  be  to  mine.  There  is  too  much  mystery  in  it 
to  please  me  ;  added  to  a  sort  of  mutual  suspicion  amongst 
its  votaries,  that  all  are  rogues  together.  That  such  is 
not  the  case  we  are  well  assured,  by  the  numbers  of 
honourable  men  who  are  amongst  them  ;  but,  to  speak  the 
truth  at  once,  I  think,  compared  with  fox-hunting,  it  is  a 
very  low  pursuit. 

"  By  the  way,  the  mention  of  the  Prince  reminds  me 
that  his  Royal  Highness  did  me  the  honour  to  have  me 
introduced  to  him  ;  passed  some  compliments  on  my 
horse  and  horsemanshii^,  and  in  his  usual  —  I  believe 
inimitable  —  elegantly  familiar  style,  inquired  kindly 
after  my  mother,  reminding  me  that  they  had  danced  a, 
minuet  together  in  their  younger  days.  Glad  to  hear  you 
are  well,  and  remain — Your  very  affectionate  son, 

"Francis  Eabt 
-  Bo^-D  Street,  June  27,  1809."  ("  ^^-P'  ^^  abeyance).    • 

The  next  day  but  two  having  brought  the  answer  from 
Mr.  Raby,  to  the  effect  that  he  would  find  the  needful  for 
the  contest,  should  such  take  place,  adding  that  he  was 
not  to  be  frightened  out  of  his  object  by  a  sugar-baker, 
wealthy  as  he  might  be,  and  how  "  sweetly  soever  he  might 
discourse,"  Frank  Eaby  ordered  four  post-horses  to  his 
travelling  carriage  the  next  morning,  and  arrived  at 
Riply  the  same  night.     On  the  morrow  he  called  on  Sir 


THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN        335 

Richard  Hartley,  whose  fine  seat  was  in  the  neighbour- 
hood, and  the  following  was  the  result  of  the  interview  : — 

"  Glad  to  see  you  at  Wortham,"  said  Sir  Richard  ; 
"  your  father  seems  bent  upon  your  being  in  Parliament, 
and  on  our  borough  becoming  vacant,  wrote  to  me  to  know 
whether  you,  as  a  friend  and  nominee  of  mine,  would  walk 
over  the'^  course.  I  told  him,  in  rejDly,  I  thought  you 
would  ;  and  as  to  my  interest,  he  made  sure  of  that,  on 
the  score  of  our  mutual  regard.  I  have,  however,  sinc& 
learnt  that  an  eminent  sugar-baker  in  the  city  has  a  mind 
to  aspire  to  the  honour  ;  and,  as  he  is  full  of  money,  he 
may,  perhaps,  cause  us  some  trouble." 

"  My  father  has  told  me  as  much  by  letter,"  replied 
Frank  Raby  ;  "and  I  must  say  I  am  somewhat  surprised 
at  his  avowal  of  being  prepared  to  spend  money  for  my 
return  to  Parliament,  for  which  I.  have  no  desire,  and^ 
moreover,  I  fear  I  should  be  of  little  service  to  my 
country  when  I  am  there,  having  no  turn  for  politics." 

"You  will  not  stand  alone  in  that  respect,"  observed 
Sir  Richard,  "  for  the  business  of  the  country  is,  and  ever 
will  be,  conducted  by  a  few ;  but  as  the  effects  of  a  good 
education  sometimes  shine  brilliantly  when  least  expected, 
I  see  no  reason  why  you  are  not  to  take  your  part  in  the- 
business  of  this  great  country.  Your  poor  uncle  Beau- 
mont would  have  made  a  first-rate  statesman,  if  he  could 
have  aroused  himself  into  action  ;  but  want  of  energy  is- 
not  your  failing." 

"  Not  in  pursuits  congenial  to  my  taste,"  replied  Raby  ; 
"  no  man  works  harder  than  I  do  in  the  hunting  season, 
but  I  should  not  like  to  be  shut  up  in  the  House  till  four 
o'clock  in  the  morning,  and,  perhaps,  be  put  on  a  com- 
mittee the  same  day.  Then  only  fancy  half  a  dozen 
calls  of  the  House  in  the  very  best  part  of  the  hunting 
season  ! " 

To  cut  the  matter  short,  we  will  at  once  proceed  to  the- 
nomination  day,  and,  politics  being  inadmissible  here^ 
merely  give  an  outline  of  the  proceedings,  and  jump  at 
once  to  the  result.  On  a  show  of  hands,  a  majority 
appeared  for  Mr.  Raby  ;  but  the  sugar-baker  demanding 
a  poll,  instantly  addressed  the  electors,  and  with  no  small 
effect.  He  nol  only  promised  them  everything  that  a 
member  of  Parliament  could  obtain  for  them,  but,  of 
course,  a  great  deal  more  ;  and  what  was  left  undone  by 
his  purse,  he  endeavoured  to  effect  by  his  tongue.     And 


336       THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN 

in  truth  he  was  not  deficient  in  the  use  of  it ;  for, 
although  his  eloquence  was  of  a  noisy  and  boisterous 
order,  consisting  more  in  the  vehemence  of  his  utterance, 
and  the  violence  of  his  action  and  gesture,  than  in  the 
elegance  of  his  style  or  the  strength  of  his  reasoning,  he 
had  a  readiness  of  wit,  with  a  kind  of  low  drollery,  that 
took  with  the  populace,  although  with  better  judges  it 
only  passed  for  impudence  and  buffoonery.  On  the  other 
ihand,  the  appearance  and  deportment  of  his  opponent  were 
-quite  of  a  different  order.  He  simply  thanked  the  electors 
for  the  preference  they  had  given  him  in  that,  the  first 
stage  [of  the  contest — if  contest  it  was  about  to  be — and 
.assured  them  that,  if  they  did  him  the  honour  to  elect  him, 
lie  would  endeavour  to  merit  their  favour.  He  concluded 
his  address,  however,  with  this  pithy  sentence  : — 

"You  have  required  no  pledges  from  me,  gentlemen, 
■and  you  have  done  wisely,  for  none  would  I  have  given 
you.  If  it  be  your  pleasure  to  return  me  to  Parliament, 
^as  the  representative  of  yourselves  and  your  interests,  I 
•will  endeavour  to  do  my  duty  ;  but  I  can  only  consent  to 
be  placed  there  with  the  liberty  to  speak  my  own  senti- 
ments, and  vote  as  my  conscience  directs  me.  There  is, 
however,  one  assurance  which  you  may  accept  as  a  pledge. 
I  will,  to  the  best  of  my  ability,  support  the  crown,  and 
the  ancient  institutions  of  the  realm  both  in  church  and 
state,  which  the  example  of  a  neighbouring  country,  so 
lately  torn  by  dissensions  in  each  of  these  departments, 
has  induced  many  to  assail.  I  am  too  young  in  years  to 
appeal  to  experience,  and  my  reading,  rather  than  my 
experience,  has  led  me  to  believe  that  there  is  no  certain 
protection  for  either  person  or  property  under  democratic 
fiway,  and  that  Great  Britain  is  the  only  nation  in  the 
world  where  liberty  is  the  direct  end  of  its  constitution. 
I  can  only  add,  then,  Esto  perpetua." 

Here  voices  in  the  crowd  exclaimed — "  Go  on  ! — Look 
^t  America  !  " 

"  Well,"  continued  our  hero,  "  I  will  look  at  America, 
.•and  to  what  can  I  compare  her  1  Why,  to  one  of  those 
lofty  and  umbrageous  trees  which  grow  so  bulky,  and 
stretch  out  their  branches  to  such  an  extent,  that  the 
trunk  is  no  longer  able  to  sustain  their  weight." 

"  Well  done,  the  young  one  I  "  exclaimed  an  oldish  man, 
in  a  leathern  apron,  having  somewhat  the  appearance  of  a 
journeyman  shoemaker.     "  Go  on  !  " 


THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN        337 

"  What  were  the  republics  of  antiquity  ?  "  exclaimed  a 
better  dressed  man  in  black,  not  very  unlike  a  dissenting 
minister. 

"  Well,"  observed  our  young  candidate,  "  I  will  tell  you 
what  they  were.  They  were  the  mature  result  of  profound 
political  science.  In  their  formation,  the  deepest  re- 
sources of  philosophy  were  explored  ;  the  most  enlightened 
sages  consulted  ;  and  every  aid  which  history,  experience, 
or  example  of  other  states  could  afford,  adopted.  It  is 
true,  they  flourished  for  periods,  under  the  auspices  of 
consummate  wisdom  and  bravery,  but  their  glory,  in 
many  instances,  was  but  short-lived.  In  fact,  it  was 
oftentimes  confined  to  the  lustre  of  a  single  life.  For 
example,  the  splendour  of  Thebes  commenced  with  the 
public  character  of  the  celebrated  Epaminondas,  and  de- 
clined from  the  moment  of  his  death.  In  fact,  the  maxims 
by  which  their  governments  were  supported  are  impracti- 
cable in  a  populous  country,  such  as  England.  They 
afford  too  many  opportunities  for  caballing,  and  betray 
the  mass  of  the  people  into  rebellion  and  outrage.  Be- 
tween the  patrician  and  plebeian  orders  the  struggle  is 
ardent  and  unceasing  ;  and  then  look  to  the  result.  When 
the  former  prevail,  despotism  ensues;  and  if  the  latter 
succeed,  anarchy  is  the  inevitable  consequence.  Who  but 
a  madman  would  expect  to  revive  the  stern  politics  of 
ancient  nations,  without  their  genius,  their  extreme 
austerity,  their  rigid  discipline,  and  their  severe  morality  ? 
But  one  lesson  is  given  us  in  the  construction  and  pro- 
ceedings of  some  of  those  celebrated  commonwealths, 
which  were  the  wonder  and  admiration  of  the  world  for  a 
long  period  of  years.  They  preserved  their  purity  and 
vigour,  and  reached  the  summit  of  unrivalled  excellence, 
not  only  by  instituting  the  best  laws,  and  executing  them 
in  the  best  manner,  but  by  delegating  the  power  of  the 
community  to  none  hut  the  best  men.  Let  us  not,  then, 
surrender  a  form  of  government  which  has  made  us  happy 
at  home  and  respected  abroad,  for  one  which  cannot, 
under  present  circumstances,  be  realized  without  having 
a  contrary  effect.  We  should  substantiate  the  fable  of 
chasing  Juno,  and  plunging  into  a  cloud.  The  old  family 
mansion  which  our  forefathers  have  inhabited  so  long, 
may  want  repair,  but  those  who  would  level  it  with  the 
ground,  or  change  it  for  another,  would  soon  find  their 
mistake." 
22 


33,8        THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN 

"  But  the  taxes  !  "  says  a  careworn  elector,  the  father  of 
eleven  children. 

"  I  have  an  answer  for  ^om,"  said  our  hero,  "  in  a  few 
words.  Without  taxes  you  could  have  no  protection,  be- 
cause you  could  have  no  Government ;  and  with  reflecting 
persons,  the  opportunities  afforded  to  them  to  rise  in  the 
world,  in  a  country  whose  revenue  is  so  large  as  ours,  are 
fully  equivalent  to  all  they  pay.  But  as  to  the  system  of 
their  distribution,  complaints  will  ever  be  made  against  it, 
inasmuch  as  people  are  apt  to  imagine  that  official  duty  is 
never  honestly  performed  but  by  virtues  and  abilities 
above  humanity.  Now,  as  you  have  pressed  me  to  deliver 
my  sentiments,  I  will  tell  you  what  I  consider  to  be  the 
duty  of  every  public  man  in  these  times,  whether  in  Parlia- 
ment or  out.  He  should  lend  all  the  aid  in  his  power  to 
preserve  the  essentials  of  the  British  constitution,  yielding 
to  such  changes  only  as  are  by  no  means  likely  to  put  its 
safety  to  the  hazard  ;  to  repress,  as  much  as  possible,  that 
violent  propensity  to  confusion  and  anarchy  which  secretly, 
if  not  openly,  agitates  the  ignorant  and  discontented  ;  to 
soothe  the  querulous,  and  encourage  the  timid,  and  dis- 
appoint and  undeceive  the  daring  and  ill-intentioned  ;  to 
guard  every  man's  right,  by  showing  that  no  claims  are 
paramount  to  justice  ;  and,  lastly,  to  establish  the  security 
of  property  by  encouraging  all  classes  in  its  defence,  and 
impressing  on  the  public  mind  this  great  truth,  that  life 
is  no  longer  valuable  to  any  man  than  whilst  he  continues 
in  the  sure  and  peaceable  possession  of  what  he  has  a  right 
to  call  his  own." 

"  Bravo,  Eaby  !  "  shouted  at  least  half  of  those  who  heard 
him. 

From  the  commencement  of  the  foregoing  address,  it  is 
apparent  that  our  hero  was  by  no  means  anxious  for  the 
honour  that  now  awaited  him,  since  he  was  very  sparing 
of  his  professions,  and  indeed,  even  of  his  words,  until  the 
spur  was  applied  to  him.  But  neither  professions  nor 
words  were  wanting;  neither  the  purse  of  the  sugar- 
baker,  nor  his  humour,  could  avail  against  the  deeply- 
rooted  interest  of  Sir  Richard  Hartley,  who,  in  addition 
to  owning  nearly  half  of  the  borough,  spent  £4000  a  year 
in  it ;  and  at  the  end  of  the  third  day's  poll,  our  hero 
was  left  to  walk  over  the  course,  and,  consequently,  at  no 
heavy  expense. 

The  visit  to  Sir  Richard — a  very  good  kind  of  man  in 


THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN        339 

his  way,  but  of  tastes  somewhat  uncongenial  with  those  of 
his  young  guest,  and  twice  his  age  withal  —  being  one 
merely  of  business,  and  the  object  of  it  being  attained, 
Frank  Eaby  was  in  London  again  as  soon  as  four  posters 
could  convey  him,  and  hailed  amongst  his  acquaintance  as 
the  new  M.P. 

"  I  would  rather  be  M.F."  said  he,  to  some  of  his  friends 
who  were  jeering  him  ;  and  amongst  the  hardest  hitters  of 
them  all  was  his  dear  friend  Hargrave,  who  cast  these 
lines  in  his  teeth  : — ■ 

"  Go  on,  brave  youths  !  till,  in  some  future  age, 
Whips  shall  become  the  senatorial  badge  : 
Till  England  see  her  jockey  senators 
Meet  all  at  Westminster,  in  boots  and  spurs  ; 
See  the  whole  House,  in  mutual  frenzy  mad, 
Her  patriots  all  in  leather  breeches  clad : 
Of  bets,  not  taxes,  learnedly  debate, 
And  guide  with  equal  reins  a  steed  and  state." 

"But,  jesting  apart,"  resumed  Hargrave,  "how  did  you 
get  on  upon  the  hustings  ? " 

"  Tipped  them  '  a  little  jaw,'  as  we  used  to  say  at  Eton. 
I  meant  to  have  said  less  than  I  did  say,  but  one  or  two  of 
my  constituents,  as  I  suppose  I  must  now  call  them,  would 
not  be  satisfied  till  they  had  tried  me  on  a  point  or  two 
touching  my  principles,  as  they  are  called,  but  they  did 
not  get  much  by  it.  I  only  advised  them  to  be  quiet  and 
good  subjects,  and  mind  the  main  chance  ;  and  I  might 
have  added,  mind  their  own  business.  For  my  part,  I 
cannot  think  what  a  fellow  with  a  leathern  apron  before 
him  can  know  about  politics  ;  but  this  I  do  know,  that  if 
power  were  to  get  into  the  hands  of  such  fellows,  the 
tyranny  of  a  Nero  or  a  Caligula  would  be  a  trifle  to  it.  At 
all  events,  the  natural  form  of  society  would  be  reversed. 
The  bad  would  usurp  the  place  of  the  good,  the  young  of 
the  old,  the  weak  of  the  strong,  the  foolish  of  the  wise,  the 
poor  of  the  rich,  the  servant  of  his  master,  and  the  subjects 
of  their  sovereign." 

"  And  did  no  metaphorical  application  of  the  study  and 
science  of  coachmanship  or  race-riding  escape  you  1 "  said 
Sir  John  Inkleton  jocosely ;  "  nothing  about  holding  the 
reins  of  government  with  a  steady  hand,  dogging  the  whecb 
of  administration,  or  of  other  nations  outstripping  us  in 
the  race  of  glory?    But  tell  me,  Frank,  how  did  your 


340        THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN 

opponent  acquit  himself? — did  he  touch  on  the  shop  in 
his  speech  1 " 

"  Not  he,  indeed,"  replied  Frank,  "  but  he  touched  on 
most  other  subjects,  for  he  spoke  for  above  two  hours.  In 
fact,  he  appeared  to  pride  himself  on  his  eloquence,  and  to 
place  his  chief  dependance  upon  it !  Indeed,  the  opening 
sentence  of  his  speech — and  he  might  as  well  have  told  us 
that  Queen  Anne  was  dead  —  was  this  : — '  Speech  being 
the  faculty  which  exalts  man  above  the  rest  of  the  crea- 
tion, we  may  consider  eloquence  as  the  talent  which  gives 
him  the  most  distinguished  pre-eminence  over  his  own 
species  ! ' " 

"  Capital !  "  exclaimed  Sir  John ;  "  and  what  next  ? " 
"  Oh,"  replied  Frank,  "  I  might  as  well  endeavour  to 
remember  last  year's  clouds.  He  said  a  good  deal  about 
the  dearth  of  good  speakers  in  the  House  of  Commons, 
declaring  that  they  drowned  the  poverty  of  their  concep- 
tions in  the  excess  of  fine  words,  while  he  himself  was 
dealing  out  tropes  and  figures  by  the  dozen,  on  mere 
commonplace  subjects.  But  it  struck  me  his  favourite 
figure  was  the  synecdoche,  which  implies  saying  one  thing 
and  meaning  another ;  for,  although  he  more  than  once 
spoke  of  'our  good  King  George,'  it  is  well  known  he 
would  rejoice  to  see  him  dethroned  to-morrow,  because  he 
refused  to  make  him  a  baronet.  And  in  the  course  of 
his  speech  he  let  the  cat  out  of  the  bag,  by  quoting  from 
Shakspeare  in  support  of  his  assertion,  that  he  himself  was 
neither  to  be  bought  nor  sold — 

'0,  how  wretched 


Is  that  poor  man,  that  hangs  on  princes'  favours  ! 
There  is,  betwixt  that  smile  we  would  aspire  to, 
That  sweet  aspect  of  princes,  and  their  ruin, 
More  pangs  and  fears  than  war  and  women  have  ; 
And  when  he  falls,  he  falls  like  Lucifer, 
Never  to  hope  again,' 

"  He,  however,  concluded  his  oration  with  a  very  sensible 
remark,  and  which  showed  that  he  has  looked  into  books 
as  well  as  into  sugar,  and  I  question  whether  he  might 
not  make  a  much  better  M.P.  than  myself.  When  allud- 
ing to  the  measures  proposed  in  Parliament,  he  said,  it  was 
the  duty  of  its  members,  when  any  great  undertaking  is 
proposed,  to  ask  themselves  these  questions  : — '  First,  is  it 
practicable?  secondly,  is  it  consistent  with  the  interest, 


THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN        341 

the  honour,  and  the  safety  of  the  country  ?  They  should 
then  carefully  weigh  such  points  as  are  likely  to  make  for 
or  against  it ; — what  is  to  be  feared,  what  to  be  expected  ; 
— what  consequences  may  be  the  result  of  ill  success,  and 
how  such  consequences  are  to  be  repaired  : — lastly,  whether 
the  extent  of  our  risk  do  not  more  than  counterbalance 
the  probable  advantages  of  the  enterprise.  When  de- 
liberating upon  these  matters,  those  who  address  the 
House  should  examine  the  subject  thoroughly  in  every 
point  of  view — not  only  real,  but  possible.  After  making 
themselves  masters  of  it,  they  have  nothing  more  to  do 
than  to  set  forth  those  circumstances,  and  to  state  their 
arguments  for  and  against  the  measure  with  force  and 
simplicity.  Here  is  no  room  for  displaying  beauties,  for 
tickling  the  ear,  or  soothing  the  imagination.  This  may 
be  called  an  eloquence  for  service — for  which  one  great 
man  is  so  distinguished — which,  in  fact,  rejects  everything 
that  has  more  of  show  than  of  solidity.  All  the  speeches 
of  Demosthenes  to  animate  the  Athenians  against  Philip 
of  Macedon,  are  in  this  strain  of  vigorous  and  convincing 
oratory.  In  them  we  find  no  empty  parade  of  words,  no 
affectation  of  ornament,  no  sophistical  reasoning.  They 
are  rich,  not  gaudy — brilliant,  not  glaring — forcing  their 
way  to  the  mind,  not  by  the  artifice  of  insinuation,  but  by 
the  irresistible  energy  of  truth.' " 

"  Upon  my  word,"  observed  the  Baronet,  "  I  am  myself 
inclined  to  think  the  sugar-baker  would  be  the  most  useful 
man  of  the  two  :  those  are  good  business-like  ideas  of  his, 
which  you  have  just  quoted." 

"  I  think  so  too,"  replied  our  sporting  M.P.,  "  and  wish 
that  he  were  in  my  place,  and  I  had  the  money  in  my 
pocket  that  my  election  will  cost.  It  would  just  make 
my  stable  complete." 

"  Is  it  not  already  complete  1 "  observed  Sir  John  ; 
"are  not  eight  good  hunters  enough  for  you?" 

"  Certainly  not  for  Melton,"  resumed  Eaby ;  "  and  I 
hope  to  be  settled  there  next  winter,  at  all  events  the 
following  one.  Nothing  under  a  stud  of  twelve  w^ill  do 
there,  and  I  hope  to  have  fourteen.  I  have  no  idea  of 
being  seen  kicking  my  heels  in  Melton  streets,  when 
others  are  out  with  hounds  ;  and  such  would  be  the  case 
if  I  had  a  short  stable  of  horses,  with  hounds  every  day 
within  reach." 

"You  will  outrun  the  constable,"  said  the  Baronet. 


342,       THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN 

"  No  fear,"  answered  Frank  ;  "  I  shall  live  quietly  in  the 
country  in  the  summer,  to  provide  for  the  winter  cam- 
paign ;  and  as  I  have  given  up  the  turf,  and  never  play 
for  a  sixpence,  my  income  will  stand  the  brunt." 

"  But  Parliament !  "  remarked  Hargrave — "  that  will  be 
a  pull.     You  must  be  a  good  deal  in  London." 

"  Kot  much  of  that,"  rej^lied  our  patriot — "  at  least  as 
little  as  I  can  help.  I  shall  leave  such  other  matters  to 
wiser  heads  than  mine.  What  would  my  opinion  be  worth 
on  the  affairs  of  the  Elector  of  Bavaria,  or  the  convention 
with  Eussia  ? " 

Parliament  not  assembling  till  the  usual  period,  it  did 
not  interfere  with  the  present  views  of  its  new  member, 
and  when  it  did  meet,  nothing  further  was  heard  of  him 
than  that  he  had  taken  the  oaths  and  his  seat.  The 
summer,  however,  was  not  wasted  by  him  in  the  doubly- 
heated  atmosphere  of  London ;  but,  by  the  first  day  in 
July,  he  was  comfortably  settled  again  at  Farndon  Hall, 
with  a  select  party  of  friends,  enjoying  the  pleasures  of 
the  coach-box,  together  with  fishing  and  cricket,  until  be 
took  his  departure  for  the  Highlands,  as  he  had  done  in 
jjreceding  years.  On  his  return,  in  addition  to  the  usual 
pastime  of  the  trigger  during  the  months  of  September 
and  October,  he  entered  upon  another  pursuit,  though  it 
did  not  prove  to  his  liking.  Having  what  he  considered 
a  fair  kennel  of  greyhounds,  he  became  a  member  of  a 
coursing  meeting,  and  contended  for  some  of  the  prizes. 
Neither  was  he  unsuccessful ;  his  dog.  Champion,  having 
particularly  signalized  himself  in  several  severe  courses, 
and  was  the  winner  of  two  cups.  But  coursing  was  not 
to  his  taste,  sufficiently  so,  at  least,  as  to  induce  him  to 
enter  into  it  as  a  science,  and  w^ithout  doing  so  he  con- 
sidered it  must  be  time  thrown  away  in  following  it, 
unless  for  the  sake  of  what  is  called  the  parson's  course 
— namely,  "the  hare  at  the  end  of  it."  This,  however, 
his  keeper  was  able  to  provide  for  him.  But  he  had 
objections  to  coursing  on  several  grounds.  Firstly,  the 
prodigious  number  of  rules  and  regulations  to  be  observ^ed 
— at  least  considered  necessary  to  be  observed — in  the 
running  of  each  course,  naturally  cause  disputes,  by  the 
difficulty  of  observing  them  —  to  the  satisfaction  of  the 
loser  especially.  All  emulative  pursuits,  he  said,  produce 
excitement ;  but  he  contended  that  he  witnessed  more 
anxiety  in  the  owners  of  greyhounds,  when  the  contest 


THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN        343 

has  been  for  a  cup,  than  in  those  of  race-horses  running 
for  the  Derby  or  St.  Leger.  The  difficulty  of  having  the 
course  fairly  decided  is  the  chief  cause  of  this  excitement  ; 
and  a  more  trying  situation  than  that  of  the  tryer  or  judge 
of  a  first-rate  coursing  meeting  is  not  often  experienced. 
Secondly,  the  system  of  breeding  and  training  greyhounds 
is  so  refined  that,  to  excel  in  each,  a  man's  whole  attention 
should  be  given  to  it.  At  the  end  of  the  third  year,  then, 
of  his  keeping  greyhounds,  he  had  a  sale  of  them  at 
Tattersall's,  where  they  fetched  as  good  prices  as  could  be 
expected  from  the  kennel  of  so  young  a  sportsman  as  our 
hero.  The  history  of  Champion,  however,  proved  remark- 
able. He  became  the  sire  of  more  good  greyhounds  than 
any  other  dog  of  those  days  ;  indeed,  it  was  asserted  of 
him,  that  he  could  produce  good  runners  from  very  in- 
ferior bitches.  This  was  a  pleasing  reflection  to  our  hero, 
inasmuch  as  it  showed  that,  so  far  in  life  as  he  had  gone, 
he  had  more  or  less  succeeded  in  whatever  pursuit  he  had 
engaged  in ;  and  in  the  fly-leaf  of  his  greyhound  book,  in 
whicli  the  pedigree  and  performance  of  each  dog  were  very 
accurately  entered,  were  the  following  remarks,  written 
with  his  own  hand  : — "  Although  many  kinds  of  dogs  are 
as  long  as  the  greyhound,  yet,  from  the  many  curves  and 
circles  which  he  describes  in  his  shape,  he  excels  all  in 
his  strides. 

"  Fine  greyhounds,  like  fine  horses,  have  a  general  pro- 
portion, and  a  certain  elegance  of  parts  ;  they  abound  in 
muscle,  have  great  length  for  their  height,  have  their 
hocks  let  down  to  the  ground,  behind,  and  standing  from 
them,  which  greatly  increases  the  angle,  have  the  muscles 
of  the  thigh  remarkably  broad  and  expanded,  with  great 
strength  of  back,  and  to  supply  the  want  of  a  long  pastern- 
joint — which  speedy  horses  have — their  feet  and  toes  are 
longer  than  those  of  any  other  dogs.  They  also  resemble 
the  hare  in  the  declivity  of  the  shoulders,  and  length  and 
strength  of  the  hinder  legs,  as  well  as  the  development  of 
muscle  in  the  loins.  In  fact,  were  their  frame  to  be  put 
to  the  test  of  geometrical  science,  I  know  not  in  what 
respect  it  could  be  improved  as  regards  the  united  faculties 
of  speed  and  endurance." 

Two  things  will  have  been  observable  in  the  progress  of 
this  history — if  history  it  can  be  called  :  one,  that  our 
hero,  although  occasionally  running  riot  a  little,  like  a 
well-bred  young  hound  just  entered  to  his  game,  possesses 


344        THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN 

an  amiable  disposition,  a  feeling  heart,  and  strictly  honour- 
able principles,  early  inculcated  in  him  by  his  father,  his 
uncle,  and  Mr.  Egerton,  which  could  not  fail  to  guide  his 
conduct  through  life.  The  other,  that  Sir  John  Inkleton 
has  been,  from  the  first — although  perhaps  the  encourager 
by  his  example  of  too  expensive  pursuits,  namely,  the 
coach-box  and  fox-hunting — a  kind  friend  to  him,  by 
giving  him  the  benefit  of  his  experience  in  several  worldly 
matters,  as  likewise  in  now  and  then  checking  the  ardour 
of  a  youthful  mind,  conscious  that,  one  day  or  another, 
gratification,  to  almost  any  extent,  would  be  within  his 
reach.  Instances  in  proof  of  each  of  these  positions  are 
now  about  to  appear. 

"What  are  your  plans,  Frank,  for  the  winter  cam- 
paign ? "  asked  the  Baronet,  who  paid  him  a  visit  at 
Farndon  Hall. 

"  I  shall  go  to  Melton,"  replied  Frank. 

"  Pause  for  a  moment,"  resumed  Sir  John,  "  before  you 
determine  upon  that  step.  Kecollect,  the  state  of  your 
stud  is  not  equal  to  it  at  present,  neither  should  I  think 
is  that  of  your  purse,  as  you  have  laid  out  large  sums  in 
purchasing  your  carriages  and  coach-horses,  furnishing 
your  house,  stocking  your  cellars,  &c." 

"  But  I  can  borrow  what  I  may  want  from  my  solicitor, 
until  that  little  estate  in  Hertfordshire  is  sold,"  replied 
our  hero. 

"  Take  my  advice,"  resumed  the  Baronet ;  "  do  not 
borrow  from  your  lawyer.  Lawyers  are  necessary  agents 
to  men  of  property  ;  but  the  more  independent  we  are  of 
them,  the  better  chance  have  we  of  their  doing  us  justice  ; 
and  it  would  not  be  worth  your  while  to  raise  money  in 
any  other  way,  until  that  estate  is  sold.  And,  mind,  I 
do  not  blame  you  for  your  intention  of  selling  it,  since 
a  small  property  like  that,  in  a  distant  part  of  the  country, 
is  not  worth  keeping  ;  and  the  purchase-mouey  will  not 
only  give  you  a  still  better  start  in  the  world  than  you 
have  hitherto  had,  but,  by  enabling  you  to  have  your 
income  clear,  so  as  to  pay  your  w^ay  as  you  go,  you  will 
save  twenty  per  cent,  upon  everything.  Let  me  advise 
you,  then,  to  defer  your  visit  to  Melton  for  one  more 
year." 

"  But  my  house  and  stables,  Inkleton  ;  what  must  I  do 
about  them  ? "  exclaimed  Frank.  "  I  shall  have  the  rent 
to  pay,  and  nothing  for  my  money  !  " 


THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN        345 

"  Yon  will  have  nothing  to  pay,"  resumed  Sir  John  ; 
"  Holding  will  take  the  whole  off  yonr  hands." 

"  Sir  Frederick,  or  his  brother  ?  "  inquired  our  hero. 

"  His  brother,"  replied  Sir  John  ;  "  and  as  you  have 
often  said  you  should  like  to  take  what  you  call  a  tour  of 
hunting  countries,  I  should  recommend  you  to  select  this 
winter  for  the  purpose.  As  you  avow  your  intention  of 
keeping  hounds  yourself,  you  may  profit  much  by  the 
plan  I  propose.  You  will  be  able  to  observe  closely  the 
conduct  of  both  masters  and  servants  in  the  several  countries 
you  visit,  profiting  by  what  is  good,  and  marking  what 
you  may  consider  to  be  the  reverse." 

"  Your  advice  is  good,"  replied  our  hero  ;  "  I  will  at 
once  act  upon  it.  In  the  first  place,  I  shall  be  quite  at 
ease  in  my  mind,  from  the  reflection  that  I  shall  not  be 
drawing  too  fast  on  my  banker  ;  and,  in  the  next,  I  shall 
no  doubt  profit  by  what  I  see  in  various  countries,  and  in 
the  various  sportsmen  whom  I  shall  meet  in  them." 

Shortly  after  this  conversation  took  place,  Frank  Raby 
commenced  his  tour,  fixing  upon  Cheshire  as  his  start, 
and  for  this  very  good  reason  :  he  was  informed  that  the 
hounds  which  hunted  the  country  were  at  that  period 
under  the  management  of  a  first-rate  sportsman  of  the 
school  of  that  day,  no  other  than  George  Home,  whose 
family  had  been  long  seated  in  this  aristocratic  country. 
Nor  was  he  misinformed  on  this  subject  :  he  found  a  most 
effective  kennel  of  hounds,  with  a  truly  scientific  sports- 
man at  their  head,  and  he  also  found — the  surest  test  of 
merit — that  his  blood  was  sought  after  in  some  of  the  first 
establishments  of  those  days.  But  for  the  country  he 
could  not  say  much.  Having  had  a  taste  of  Leicestershire, 
Northamptonshire,  and  Warwickshire,  he  found  himself 
cramped,  as  it  were,  in  the  small  fields  of  Cheshire  ; 
neither  were  some  of  his  horses  at  all  calculated  for  its 
fences,  which  were,  for  the  most  part,  hedges  placed  on 
narrow  banks,  or  "cops,"  as  they  are  called  there, 
strengthened  by  a  deep  and  often  blind  ditch.  This  kind 
of  fence  not  only  requires  a  practised  horse,  very  quick 
and  ready  with  his  legs,  as  he  must  spring  from  the  cop, 
when  the  ditch  is  on  the  landing  side,  but  it  also  requires 
a  practised  and  good  horseman  to  get  him  over  it  with 
safety,  when  he  becomes  what  is  termed  "  pumped  out " 
by  the  pace.  Temper,  likewise,  and  that  of  a  peculiar 
nature,  is  almost  indispensable  here ;  that  is  to  say,  the 


346       THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN 

courage  and  resolution  so  desirable  in  horses  who  have  to 
face  the  thickly-set  thorn  fences  of  the  countries  we  have 
just  alluded  to,  are  the  reverse  of  what  is  wanting  here. 
Extreme  steadiness  is  required — amounting,  indeed,  to 
slackness — at  the  generality  of  the  fences  we  have  been 
describing  ;  and  it  being  the  lot  of  our  hero  to  have  only 
two  of  his  stud  (which  consisted  of  eight  hunters  and  two 
hacks)  possessing  these  equalities,  he  never  went  out  with- 
out a  fall.  But%e  profited  by  these  mishaps  in  more  ways 
than  one.  Before  he  had  been  a  month  in  the  country,  his 
horses  were  up  to  every  description  of  trap,  in  the  first 
place  ;  and,  in  the  next,  he  acquired  some  excellent  lessons 
on  the  use  of  the  bridle  hand  from  some  of  the  best  men 
in  the  Hunt ;  and  from  none  more  to  his  edification  than 
from  one  whose  calling  confined  him  to  the  use  of  the 
black  coat :  this  was  the  Rev.  James  Tomlinson,  quite  the 
crack  man  of  the  field,  being  a  horseman  of  the  very 
first  class,  and  a  good  sportsman  withal.  Our  hero  was 
delighted  as  well  as  edified  by  the  manner  in  which  this 
-gentleman  crossed  this  cramped  and  difficult  country, 
conceiving  him  to  be  a  man  who  would  shine  in  any 
country,  forasmuch  as  he  combined  quickness  with  his 
judgment  of  every  point  relating  to  hounds  ;  and  his  hand 
was  equal  to  anything.  His  stud  was  not  large — not 
exceeding  half  a  dozen ;  but,  when  disposed  to  sell,  they 
commanded  any  price. 

It  has  happened  to  most  men  who  have  ridden  after 
hounds — although  not  perhaps  more  than  once  in  their 
life — to  feel  a  horse  take  what  is  called  a  second  spring 
when  in  the  air.  This  circumstance  occurred  one  day  to 
our  hero,  when  hunting  with  the  Cheshire  hounds,  and 
on  mentioning  the  subject  to  Mr.  Home,  he  thus  delivered 
his  opinion  upon  it : — 

"  I  have  experienced  this  extra  exertion  in  a  hunter 
more  than  once,"  observed  Mr.  Home,  "  but  I  admit  the 
difficulty  of  accounting  for  it.  Leaping  commonly  takes 
place  on  a  fixed  surface,  which  possesses  the  power  of 
resistance,  in  consequence  of  its  firmness  ;  still,  leaping,  as 
we  know,  can  be  performed,  to  a  certain  degree,  from  a 
yielding  surface,  although  the  retrograde  motion  of  the 
surface  produces  a  diminution  in  the  velocity  of  the  leap, 
compared  with  that  which  is  made  from  firm  ground. 
However,  here  is  a  fulcrum  to  spring  from  in  each  case  ; 
but  how  a  horse,  having  once  made  his  spring,  has  the 


THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN        347 

power  to  increase  the  velocity  of  it,  is  difficult  to  account 
for,  unless,  as  is  the  case  with  serpents  and  such  aquatic 
insects  as  have  long  bodies  and  no  tins,  he  have  the  power 
of  inflecting  the  body  to  a  certain  extent,  and  thence 
acquire  an  impetus.  Swimming  and  tiying  are  leaps 
which  take  place  in  fluids,  but  they  are  produced  by  the 
resistance  these  fluids  make  to  the  impulse  of  certain 
surfaces,  through  which  swimming  or  flying  animals  move 
with  great  rapidity  ;  but  the  velocity  is  necessarily  great 
in  proportion  to  the  variety  of  the  medium.  The  muscles 
which  produce  it  require,  therefore,  a  force  vastly  superior 
to  that  which  is  necessary  for  a  simple  leap  upon  a  solid 
surface  ;  but  there  is  still  another  requisite  for  motions 
which  take  place  in  fluids,  which  the  horse  does  not 
possess.  The  body  being  entirely  surrounded  by  these 
media,  w^ould  find  an  equal  resistance  on  all  sides ;  and 
the  velocity  acquired  by  striking  the  fluid  posteriorly 
would  soon  be  overcome  by  the  quantity  that  must  be 
displaced  anteriorly,  if  the  animal  had  not  the  power  of 
considerably  diminishing  its  surface  immediately  after  it 
has  struck  the  fluid — which  power,  also,  the  horse  has  not. 
I  certainly  was  indebted  for  the  preservation  of  some  of 
my  limbs,  perhaps  my  life,  for  an  exertion  of  this  sort, 
which  enabled  my  horse  to  clear  a  sawpit  that  was  on 
the  landing  side  of  a  fence  I  rode  at.  One  who  saw  me 
exclaimed — '  Why  did  you  not  look  before  you  leaped  ? ' 
when  a  wag  answered  him  in  the  words  of  Horace — '  Nemo 
mortalium  omnibus  horis  saivpit.' " 

The  next  pack  visited  by  our  hero  was  that  of  Sir 
Kichard  Puleston,  who  hunted  parts  of  Cheshire,  Shrop- 
shire, and  North  Wales,  and  his  object  for  so  doing  was 
this  : — he  had  been  informed,  by  more  than  one  good 
judge,  that  Sir  Kichard  was  an  excellent  breeder  of  fox- 
hounds ;  in  fact,  that  he  had  done  much  towards  ridding 
them  of  those  coarse  points  which,  whilst  they  disfigured 
them,  were  found  not  to  be  essential  to  strength  and 
endurance,  but  evidently  impediments  to  speed.  Then  he 
had  another  motive  for  visiting  Sir  Richard's  pack.  He 
was  at  that  time  one  of  the  very  few  masters  of  fox- 
hounds who  hunted  his  own  hounds,  and,  as  he  hoped 
some  day  or  another  to  hunt  a  pack  himself,  he  was 
anxious  to  see  a  gentleman  placed  in  that  difficult  and 
trying  situation.  Nor  was  he  disappointed  in  Sir  Richard, 
who  exhibited  much  good  judgment  in  his  casts,  and  drew 


348       THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN 

for  his  fox  in  a  manner  very  mucli  to  his  taste.  Had  he, 
indeed,  ridden  a  little  nearer  to  his  hounds  in  chase,  he 
would  have  called  him  a  first-rate  huntsman.  The  next 
pack,  however,  which  our  young  sportsman  went  to  see, 
on  his  tour,  were  hunted  by  quite  a  first-rate  huntsman, 
and  also  in  the  character  of  a  gentleman.  We  allude  to 
Mr.  Musters,  who  at  that  time  hunted  one  of  the  best  of 
the  midland  counties  with  very  great  eclat.  He  combined, 
in  the  opinion  of  our  hero,  every  possible  requisite  for 
his  task.  He  was  a  beautiful  and  bold  horseman  ;  with 
a  voice  musically  melodious  ;  with  the  eye  of  a  hawk  to 
his  hounds  and  country,  and  with  a  sort  of  intuitive 
knowledge  of  the  usual  lines  in  which  his  foxes  ran,  to  an 
extent  not  hitherto  witnessed  by  him.  And  the  following 
rather  curiously  drawn  portrait  of  him  was  given  to  him 
by  a  friend  : — 

"  It  is  in  the  field  that  Mr.  Musters  shines.  Birds,  we 
are  told,  cannot  conceive  with  beasts,  nor  fish  with  fowl, 
but  dogs,  to  an  extent,  certainly  conceive  with  men, 
and  some  persons  have  a  peculiar  method  ofj  making 
their  wishes  known  to  them.  At  the  head  of  these  is 
Mr.  Musters.  In  command  of  hounds  I  never  saw  him 
equalled,  and  he  certainly  handles  them  with  a  master's 
hand.  Every  art  has  its  peculiar  terms,  and  his  language 
and  method  in  the  field  are  most  appropriate.  In  fact, 
he  may  be  said  to  suit  the  action  to  the  word,  and  the 
word  to  the  action,  with  the  greatest  possible  eff'ect.  By 
temperament  of  constitution,  also,  he  is  particularly  fitted 
for  a  huntsman  ;  for,  being  never  fatigued,  he  is  always 
cheery  and  gay.  To  sum  up  all,  although  a  gentleman^  he 
is  a  huntsman.  Nature  qualified  him  for  the  task,  and 
without  this,  it  is  in  vain  to  attempt  it.     As  Ion  says — 

'What's  the  gay  Dolphin  when  he  quits  the  waves, 
And  bounds  upon  the  shore  ? ' " 

But  a  singular  instance  of  his  powers  over  the  wills  and 
affections  of  his  hounds  was  related  to  our  hero  by  one 
who  had  long  hunted  with  him  ;  and  what  renders  the 
circumstance  still  more  extraordinary,  is  the  fact  that  Mr, 
Musters  does  not  feed  his  own  hounds  in  kennel,  as  most 
huntsmen  (servants)  do.  "  His  hounds  were  on  their 
road  to  sleep  out,  previously  to  the  next  day's  hunting, 
the  fixture  being  a  distant  one,  and  he  himself  was  like- 


THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN        349 

wise  on  his  road  to  dine  and  sleep  at  a  friend's  house.  It 
happened  that,  as  his  own  house  was  four  miles  from  the 
kennel  from  which  the  hounds  had  started,  he  did  not 
travel  in  their  line  for  a  certain  portion  of  the  road  ;  but, 
knowing  that  he  must  cross  it  at  a  certain  point,  he 
pushed  on  his  hack,  to  enable  him  to  get  ahead  of  them. 
When,  however,  they  came  into  that  part  of  the  road 
over  which  he  had  just  gone  before  them,  despite  of  the 
endeavours  of  the  whip  to  restrain  them,  every  hound  in 
the  pack  started  off,  and  overtook  him  in  the  space  of  a 
mile.  Neither  could  their  joy  on  reaching  him  be  re- 
strained ;  they  surrounded  his  horse,  and  one  actually 
leaped  on  his  quarters,  for  the  purpose  of  licking  his 
huntsman's  face." 

There  was  another  eminent  sportsman  in  that  country, 
whom  Frank  Raby  was  anxious  to  see,  and  that  pleasure 
was  afforded  him.  This  was  Sir  Charles  Knightly,  one 
of  the  most  fearless  and  determined  horsemen  of  the 
period  to  which  we  allude.  On  two  thorough-bred  horses 
— Benvolio  and  St.  Maronel — which  he  rode  for  several 
seasons,  he  went  straighter,  perhaps,  than  any  other  man 
over  the  country  in  which  he  hunted,  and  which  was  one 
of  the  strongest  in  England  as  to  fences,  and  this  fact  is 
confirmed  by  the  following  declaration  on  his  part.  On 
some  one  observing,  in  his  presence,  that  the  country  in 
which  he  hunted  was  very  strong,  but  that  the  difl&culty 
of  crossing  it  was,  to  a  certain  extent,  lessened  by  the 
number  of  bridle-gates,  he  coolly  replied,  that  the  only 
fault  he  found  with  it  was  in  the  number  of  bridle  and  other 
gates  with  which  it  abounded.  "  I  wish,"  said  he,  "  every 
gate  in  the  country  was  nailed  up,  and  then  my  hounds 
would  not  be  incommoded  by  the  crowd."  He  was  not 
a  master  of  hounds  at  the  period  to  which  we  allude,  so 
that  our  hero  had  not  an  opportunity  of  observing  him  in 
that  capacity,  but  he  took  several  lessons  from  him  in  the 
practice  of  riding  to  hounds. 

"  The  straightest  road  is  the  best  and  easiest  for  your 
horse,"  he  would  say,  "  until  the  hounds  turn,  when  you 
should  always  get  a  point  in  your  favour,  by  being  a  little 
beforehand  with  them  at  that  moment." 

Then  a  great  treat  was  afforded  to  our  young  sportsman, 
in  witnessing  a  day  with  Mr.  Musters,  in  the  very  celebrated 
woodlands  of  the  country  his  hounds  hunted.  Strange  to 
say,  they  are  dissected  by  avenues  to  the  extent  of  seventy 


359        THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN 

miles,  in  various  directions  ;  and  being  the  property  of 
a  noble  Duke,  himself  a  master  of  foxhounds,  are  never 
short  of  foxes.  He  was  fortunate  in  seeing  a  fox  made  to 
break  from  them  by  the  surprising  energies  of  Mr.  Musters, 
and,  after  facing  the  open  country,  being  up  at  his  death, 
at  the  distance  of  twelve  miles,  as  the  crow  flies. 

Moving  on,  in  his  tour,  our  hero  visited  the  Hertford- 
shire hounds,  then  the  Hampshire,  and  afterwards  the 
Vine,  with  each  of  which  he  saw  some  really  good  sports- 
men, from  several  of  whom  he  gathered  golden  opinions, 
which  served  his  purposes  through  life.  The  scene  of 
action  wdth  each  of  these  packs  lying  in  what  may  be 
called  very  unfavourable  ground  for  hounds,  was  his  chief 
motive  for  visiting  them,  forasmuch  as  it  is  in  the  over- 
coming of  difficulties  that  talent  most  strikingly  displays 
itself.  He  witnessed  much  science  in  all  that  related  to 
the  Hertfordshire,  their  huntsman  being  a  first-rate  per- 
former, assisted  by  as  clever  a  whipper-in  as  ever  rated 
a  hound  ;  and  in  the  "Hampshire"  pack,  from  Alpha  to 
Omega,  all  appeared  to  him  to  be  perfect.  In  fact,  he 
found,  as  a  friend  of  his  told  him  he  would  find,  a  pro- 
priety attending  that  establishment,  as  well  as  correctness 
of  conduct  in  everything  relating  to  it,  which  are  highly 
gratifying  to  a  sportsman's  eye,  and  which  cannot  be  too 
closely  imitated.  The  civility  and  respectful  behaviour 
of  the  servants  were  beyond  all  praise ;  and  whether  by 
command  of  their  master,  or  from  their  own  sense  of 
propriety,  it  was  not  in  his  power  to  determine,  but  an 
oath,  or  a  coarse  expression  of  any  sort,  was  never  heard 
to  escape  them  under  the  most  trying  circumstances  that 
occurred.  It  showed  that  fox-hunting  was  about  to  be 
purged  of  the  only  stain  that  w^as  then  attached  to  it, 
namely,  being  the  scene  of  wanton  disregard  of  the  usual 
decorum  of  society. 

Of  the  Vine  hounds  he  thus  wrote  to  his  intimate  friend 
and  brother  sportsman,  Hargrave  : — 

"I  am  now  hunting  with  a  pack  called  the  Vine,  so 
called  because  such  is  the  name  of  their  owner's  house, 
he  representing  the  county  in  Parliament.  He  has  the 
appearance  of  anything  rather  than  a  master  of  fox- 
hounds, streaming  across  the  country  with  a  long  pig- 
tail down  his  back,  but  he  is  very  popular  with  all 
descriptions  of  persons.  But  it  is  of  his  hounds  that  I 
wish  to  speak.     They  are  very  small— the  smallest  I  ever 


THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN        351 

saw — but  very  neat,  very  fast,  very  quick  in  their  turns, 
and  very  stout.  I  shall  have  an  eye  to  some  of  their 
blood,  one  day  or  another.  They  have  a  bad,  light - 
scenting  country  to  hunt  over,  which  puts  their  goodness 
to  the  test. 

"  You  often  hear  me  speak  of  my  weight,  and  grumble 
about  it.  I  shall  do  so  no  more,  because  I  see  that  men, 
four  stone  heavier  than  I  am,  can  go  well  up  to  hounds. 
When  I  was  in  the  Hertfordshire  country,  I  saw  this 
proved  in  the  person  of  one  of  the  most  extraordinary 
men,  perhaps,  England  ever  produced.  His  name  is 
Eichard  Gurney— commonly  called  Dick  Gurney — and, 
although  riding  eighteen  stone,  he  goes  the  best  pace. 
In  fact,  a  short  time  since,  I  went  to  see  a  gate  that  he 
and  Sir  Charles  Knightly — but  no  one  else — leaped,  near 
Northampton,  at  the  end  of  a  twenty  minutes'  burst.  It 
appeared  to  me  next  to  a  miracle  that  he  could  have 
cleared  it,  when  I  looked  at  its  height,  and  thought  of 
his  tremendous  weight.  The  name  of  the  horse  that 
performed  it  is  Cock  Robin  (winged,  I  should  imagine, 
like  his  namesake),  and  he  has  refused  1000  guineas 
for  him. 

"  The  frost  is  gone  at  last,  and  to  our  no  small  delight. 
Indeed,  the  breaking-up  of  one  always  reminds  me  of 
the  inhabitants  of  those  countries  from  which  the  sun 
absents  himself  for  half  the  year.  Speaking  poetically, 
when  they  see  the  chariot  of  Diana,  every  man  claps 
his  hands  for  joy ;  all  come  forth  from  their  caves,  with 
dancing  and  songs;  to  welcome  the  approach  of  the 
beautiful  goddess.  But  you  may  wish  to  know  what  I 
did  with  myself  during  the  frost.  I  visited  London  for 
a  week,  and  afterwards  ran  down  to  Amstead,  and  had 
a  capital  week's  shooting,  killing  seventeen  couples  of 
woodcocks,  eleven  and  a  half  brace  of  pheasants,  seven 
and  a  half  of  snipes,  and  eleven  of  rabbits.  I  then  ran 
down  to  Quorn  to  see  the  hounds  in  kennel,  and  a  great 
treat  I  had.  The  master  was  from  home,  but  I  inspected 
the  whole  establishment,  which,  to  use  the  low  expression, 
'  made  my  mouth  water,'  and  I  said  to  myself — '  when  shall 
I  be  qualified  to  be  at  the  head  of  such  an  establishment 
as  this  1 '  I  was  answered  by  the  inner  man,  with  a  still 
lower  expression — '  when  you  have  eaten  a  good  deal  more 
pudding.'  But  I  tell  you,  honestly,  Hargrave,  I  shall 
never  consider  myself  completely  happy  until   I  become 


352        THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN 

a  master  of  foxhounds.  By-the-bye,  one  piece  of  informa- 
tion gleaned  at  Quorn  somewhat  surprised  me,  and  this 
was,  the  comparatively  small  number  of  foxes  killed  in 
the  space  of  five  seasons,  during  what  may  be  called  the 
prime  of  Mr.  Meynell's  career.  The  account  stands  thus  : 
—From  16th  of  August  1791  to  April  1792,  thirty-four 
brace.  From  16th  of  June  1792  to  9th  of  April  1793, 
forty-one  and  a  half  brace.  From  16th  of  June  1793  to 
2nd  of  April  1794,  forty-six  and  a  half  brace.  From  23rd 
of  August  1794  to  4th  of  April  1795,  twenty-six  and 
a  half  brace.  From  26th  of  August  1795  to  4th  of 
April  1796,  thirty-four  and  a  half  brace.  This,  you  will 
perceive,  averages  little  more  than  thirty-six  brace  in  the 
season,  including  cub-hunting,  and  that  commencing  more 
than  usually  early.  Either  the  foxes  must  have  been  more 
scarce  than  they  now  are,  to  account  for  this  trifling 
amount  of  blood  ;  or,  what  I  think  most  probable,  they 
were  wilder  and  more  difficult  to  kill  in  Meynell's  days, 
the  country  itself  being  wilder  and  more  open  than  it 
now  is. 

"  The  kennels  and  stables  at  Quorn  are  superb,  and  you 
must  see  them  soon.  Exclusive  of  boxes,  there  is  one 
stable  which  holds  twenty-eight  horses,  and  so  contrived 
by  a  trifling  deviation  from  a  right  line,  that,  although 
ail  the  horses  appear  to  stand  in  a  row,  the  quarters  of 
each  are  to  be  seen  at  either  extremity  of  the  building. 
A  clean  watering-bridle  hangs  on  the  stall-post  of  each 
horse,  and  there  is  a  patent  lamp  between  every  six. 
This  is  all  very  fine  as  far  as  the  eye  of  man  is  concerned  ; 
but  for  the  welfare  of  the  horses  I  should  prefer  smaller 
stables,  so  as  to  divide  the  lot  according  to  their  several 
necessities.  Horses  require  a  state  of  extreme  quiet  at 
times,  which  they  cannot  enjoy  in  a  stable  occupied  by 
so  many.  Some  require  to  be  shod  ;  others  are  in  physic, 
and  most  go  out  more  than  once  in  the  day  :  and  many 
such  occurrences  tend  to  disturb  repose,  which  should 
be  plentifully  allowed  to  hunters  after  hard  days,  as  a 
great  restorative  of  their  powers,  as  well  as  a  preventive 
of  fever." 

Towards  the  close  of  the  season,  another  letter  was 
despatched  by  Frank  Raby  to  his  friend  Hargrave,  of 
which  the  following  is  part : — 

"  My  tour  of  hounds  is  now  drawing  to  a  conclusion ; 
but  I   cannot  wait  till  I   see  you  for  the  pleasure  of 


THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN        353 

relating  to  you  a  run  I  saw  yesterday,  in  the  Atherstone 
country.  The  beautiful  pack  of  bitches  met  at  Sibson. 
The  morning  was  immoderately  stormy,  and,  as  far  as 
human  foresight  extended,  perfectly  inimical  to  scent  and 
sport ;  but  the  result  proved  how  fallible  is  human  judg- 
ment !  We  drew  the  wolds  and  Welsborough  Gorse  blank. 
We  then  proceeded  to  Sutton  Hambion,  and  the  hounds 
had  scarcely  been  in  the  cover  a  minute  before  the  electric 
sounds  of  '  Tally-ho  ! ' — '  Gone-away  ! '  were  audible,  and 
the  fox  broke  in  the  most  gallant  style.  The  moment 
the  hounds  were  laid  on  the  scent,  it  was  evident  we  were 
in  for  a  run ;  and  away  they  went,  with  heads  up,  and 
sterns  down,  to  Bosworth,  where  the  hounds,  and  a  few 
of  the  first-flight  men,  got  a  view  of  the  fox.  It  was  but 
a  peep,  however,  and  away  we  went  again,  the  hounds 
appearing  bent  upon  conquest  —  the  pace  up  to  this 
moment  having  been  a  jiying  one.  He  then  made  his 
line  for  Kirkby,  leaving  the  Gorse  to  the  left,  as  if 
Burbage  Wood  were  his  next  point ;  but  the  hounds 
pressed  him  so  hard,  that  he  went  farther  a-field  ;  and, 
to  come  to  the  end  of  my  story,  he  was  killed  at  the  end 
of  one  hour  and  fifty-five  minutes,  during  which  time 
nothing  occurred  which  could  be  called  a  check.  The 
country  being  awfully  deep,  and  the  pace  throughout 
fast  in  the  extreme,  several  disasters  occurred,  and 
veterinary  surgeons  were  in  request,  on  the  morrow,  in 
more  directions  than  one. 

"  By-the-bye,  I  do  not  recollect  having  told  you  that  I 
hunted  one  week  in  Yorkshire,  with  the  hounds  of  the 
far-famed  Earl  of  Darlington.  He  has  a  noble  establish- 
ment of  hounds  and  horses,  a  most  extensive  country, 
and  he  performs  the  office  of  huntsmen  both  in  the  field 
and  in  the  kennel.  He  is  a  superb  horseman  over  a 
country  as  well,  and  altogether  a  sportsman,  being  one 
of  the  leading  men  in  the  north  on  the  turf.  He  is,  like- 
wise— for  I  had  the  honour  of  passing  two  days  with  him 
at  his  castle — one  of  the  most  lively  and  agreeable  com- 
panions I  ever  met  with  over  a  bottle  of  claret,  abounding 
with  anecdotes,  and  having  a  most  agreeable  manner  of 
relating  them.  What  think  you  of  his  feeding  his  hounds 
in  a  smock-frock  ?  which  I  saw  him  do  twice.  I  hope  some 
day  to  do  the  same  by  mine,  that  is,  when  I  have  them 
to  feed.  His  Lordship  also  keeps  a  diary  of  each  day's 
sport,  written  with  much  spirit,  and  showing  that  his 
23 


354        THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN 

heart  and  soul  are  in  the  pursuit.  I  will  give  you  a 
little  specimen  of  his  style,  in  recording  the  sport  of  the 
first  day  on  which  I  was  out  with  his  pack.  Speaking 
of  those  of  his  field  who  went  well  in  the  brilliant  run 
we  had,  of  an  hour  and  forty  minutes,  he  says — '  I  cannot 
omit  to  mention  that  the  Kev.  Mr.  John  Morton  shone 
as  conspicuously  on  his  grey  mare  as  he  always  does  in 
the  pulpit.'  Then,  speaking  of  myself,  his  Lordship  has 
thus  described  me  : — '  A  young  gentleman  by  the  name 
of  Kaby,  a  friend  of  my  eldest  son,  who  made  his  ac- 
quaintance at  Melton,  was  out  with  us  this  day,  and  rode 
well  to  my  hounds  ;  he  appears  to  have  an  old  head  upon 
young  shoulders,  and  I  prophesy  that  he  will,  some  day 
or  another,  make  a  distinguished  sportsman.' 

"  His  Lordship  did  not  show  me  what  he  had  written  ,♦ 
but  as  we  like  to  hear  what  is  thought  of  us  by  people 
whose  opinion  is  worth  having,  I  took  a  peep  into  the 
book  next  morning,  and  was  of  course  flattered  by  the 
handsome  mention  made  of  me.  I  certainly  never  rode 
better  to  hounds  than  I  did  that  day  over  a  cramped  and 
difficult  country,  but  I  chanced  to  ride  Achilles,  who  is 
up  to  all  sorts  of  trap.  There  was,  however,  one  fence 
which  I  did  not  attempt,  although  many  of  the  Yorkshire 
horses  did  not  appear  to  regard  it ;  this  was  a  stile  in  the 
shape  of  the  letter  V,  consequently  without  a  top  bar  to 
guide  the  eye  of  a  horse  as  to  how  high  he  is  to  leap. 
One,  not  accustomed  to  this  sort  of  fence,  would  be  in- 
duced to  leap  through  it,  in  which  case  he  most  likely 
would  be  caught. 

"You  will  expect  that  I  shall  say  something  of  the 
hounds.  They  are  divided  into  two  packs,  the  large  and 
the  small  one.  The  large  hounds  are  noble  animals,  and 
good  hunters  ;  but — and  I  saw  both  packs  at  work,  and 
in  difficulties — I  gave  the  preference  to  the  small  ones, 
which  appeared  more  handy  and  quicker.  It  is  alto- 
gether, however,  a  splendid  and  truly  sportsmanlike 
establishment." 

The  summer  succeeding  the  period  which  we  have  now 
been  detailing  the  operations  of,  having  been  passed  in 
a  way,  for  the  most  part,  to  the  full  satisfaction  of  our 
hero — namely,  in  the  enjoyment  of  the  London  season 
up  to  a  certain  period,  a  trip  to  Brighton,  a  visit  to  his 
friend  Hargrave,  Epsom  and  Ascot  races, 'Bibury  Club 
meeting,    together  with    his    "parliamentary  duties" — 


THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN        355 

although  he  was  getting  somewhat  out  of  conceit  with 
being  a  member  of  the  British  senate,  having  been  twice 
obliged  to  absent  himself  from  a  favourite  iixture  for 
hounds  to  obey  a  call  of  the  House,  and  once  had  a  visit 
from  the  sergeant-at-arms  for  not  obeying  it : — when  all 
these  momentous  affairs  were  accomplished,  he  hastened  to 
Farndon  Hall,  to  spend  the  rest  of  the  summer  in  a  way 
more  congenial  to  his  taste.  His  coaching  establishment 
was  now  quite  complete  by  some  changes  he  had  effected 
in  London.  He  had  drafted  the  kicking  wheeler  ;  as 
well  as  a  leader  that  would  not  stand  still  when  he  pulled 
up  his  coach  on  the  road,  and  he  was  a  bad  starter  as 
well.  Having  witnessed  much  of  the  performances  of 
some  of  the  best  gentlemen-coachmen  of  the  day,  during 
his  stay  in  London,  he  was  become  a  first-rate  artist 
himself ;  and,  after  the  example  of  his  friend,  "  His 
Honour,"  by  opening  the  door  of  his  servants'  hall  to 
such  of  the  coachmen  and  guards  on  his  road  as  required 
a  few  days'  rest,  together  with  having  their  allowance 
scored  up  to  him  in  his  village,  through  which  three  mails 
and  seven  coaches  passed  daily,  his  name  was  known  to 
nearly  all  the  fraternity  of  the  whip  as  a  kind-hearted 
gentleman,  and  among  the  best  friends  of  the  road.  He 
was,  indeed,  universally  respected  by  all  ranks  of  persons 
in  his  neighbourhood  :  neither  was  he  unmindful  of  the 
poor ;  allowing  those  of  his  parish,  besides  occasional 
assistance,  a  bushel  of  wheat  a  week  throughout  the  year, 
as  his  father  had  always  done  to  double  that  amount. 
Then  a  pleasing  circumstance  occurred  on  the  anniversary 
of  his  taking  up  his  abode  at  Farndon  Hall.  Setting 
aside  the  outlay  of  his  carriages  and  horses,  as  likewise 
the  furnishing  of  his  house,  he  found  himself  so  far  from 
being  in  advance  of  his  annual  income,  that  there  was  a 
balance  of  £1300  in  his  favour.  To  this  he  was  indebted 
partly  to  his  own  sense  of  propriety,  partly  to  the  ex- 
cellent advice  of  his  friend  Inkleton,  and  greatly  to  his 
having  looked  into  his  affairs  at  the  end  of  each  month, 
and  paid  ready  money  for  all  minor  wants.  The  little 
estate  in  Hertfordshire,  also,  from  its  beautiful  locality, 
had  been  sold  for  nearly  £2000  beyond  the  calculation 
of  his  agents,  which  tended  further  to  place  him  "on 
velvet,"  that  is  to  say,  with  everything  in  his  reach  that  a 
man  of  moderate  views  could  desire.  "iVow,"  said  he  to 
himself,  "  I  am  qualified  to  hunt  from  Melton." 


356       THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN 


CHAPTER    XVII 

Frank  Raby  becomes  a  regular  MeltoniaB  ;  loses  his  father,  and 
finally  settles  down  as  a  master  of  foxhounds,  the  point  of 
honour  in  the  Life  of  a  Sportsman. 

IT  is  scarcely  necessary  to  observe,  that  the  first  week 
in  the  succeeding  November  found  our  hero  at 
Melton  Mowbray,  occupying  the  house  which  he  had 
already  tenanted  for  upwards  of  two  years,  and  with  his 
stud  increased  to  fourteen  hunters  and  two  cover  hacks. 
And  his  indoors  establishment  was  this : — at  the  head  of 
it  was  his  trusty  butler,  who  had  lived  nearly  all  his 
life  with  his  late  uncle,  and  consequently,  having  known 
him  in  his  childhood,  was  attached  to  his  person  and 
interests  beyond  mercenary  views,  and  who  kept  all  his 
accounts ;  his  own  personal  servant,  or  valet,  skilled  in 
the  art  of  clothes-cleaning,  and  especially  in  the  depart- 
ment of  the  boots,  then  only  in  its  infancy  ;  a  French 
cook,  with  the  highest  attestations  of  his  abilities  from 
Lord  Edmonston,  with  whom  he  had  lived,  and  who  had 
"  parted  with  him  for  no  fault,"  as  the  horse-chaunter 
says  in  his  puff  of  the  patched-up  screw  ;  an  English 
kitchen-maid  of  no  slender  qualifications,  without  which 
no  man's  cuisine  is  complete  ;  his  housekeeper,  having 
had  her  education  in  the  Amstead  still-room,  under  the 
tuition  of  Mrs,  Jones ;  a  footman  and  a  housemaid 
bringing  up  the  rear.  Here  it  will  be  perceived  is  no 
wanton  prodigality,  nor  was  any  such  indulged  in  by 
our  young  sportsman.  His  practice  was  to  give  dinners 
twice  a  week,  to  parties  of  eight,  and  on  the  evenings  on 
which  he  had  no  engagement,  one  friend  at  least  would 
be  his  guest,  to  talk  over  the  events  of  the  day.  And  at 
no  place,  except  Melton,  is  there  such  a  never-failing 
succession  of  events  to  be  discussed  on  these  occasions, 
by  reason  of  there  being  three  packs  of  hounds  within 
reach,  and  the  certainty  that  out  of  a  party  of  eight,  one 
attendant,  at  least,  upon  each  pack,  would  be  found. 
Having  stated  all  this,  there  is  little  room  for  doubting 
that — although,  perhaps,  the  knowledge  of  the  savoir  vivre 
in  our  young  sportsman,  was  not  quite  so  complete  as  in 
some  of  the  bon  vivants  of  the  day,  who  had  more  ex- 


THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN        357 

perience  than  himself — most  of  the  arts  and  appliances 
which  render  life  agreeable  to  a  man  in  his  twenty-tifth 
year,  were  to  be  found  in  his  house  at  Melton. 

But  we  have  said  nothing  of  his  stud  of  hunters,  selected 
for  this  occasion.  By  the  advice  of  his  friend  Somerby, 
whom  he  had  met  in  London  during  the  season,  an 
alteration  had  been  effected  in  them. 

"The  eight  hunters  you  now  have,"  said  Somerby, 
"  are  all  good  and  useful  of  their  kind  ;  but  three  of  them 
are  not  suited  for  Leicestershire.  In  the  first  place,  they 
are  not  well  enough  bred  for  our  pace  and  country ;  and, 
in  the  next,  in  stable  language,  they  are  deficient  in  scale 
to  command  and  to  cover  our  large  blackthorn  hedges, 
with  their  wide  ditches,  and  more  especially  the  ox  fences, 
which  require  horses  to  extend  themselves  in  their  leaps 
over  a  great  space  of  ground.  Let  me  recommend  you 
to  draft  all  but  those  three  ;  and  as  there  are  two  lots  of 
well-known  and  capital  Leicestershire  horses  coming  to 
Tattersall's  in  a  fortnight,  you  can  then  and  there  re- 
place them,  as  well  as  complete  the  number  of  your  stud. 
Do  not  think  me  conceited  in  thus  characterizing  the 
Leicestershire  horse  ;  depend  upon  it,  before  you  have 
hunted  in  that  country  half  as  long  as  I  have,  you  will 
say  I  have  not  overdrawn  the  picture." 

Space  will  not  admit  of  our  accompanying  our  hero 
during  the  whole  of  his  residence  at  Melton,  which 
continued  for  nine  consecutive  years,  and  where  he  left 
behind  him  a  reputation  for  all  that  is  desirable  in  the 
gentleman,  the  companion,  and  the  sportsman  ;  and  the 
character  he  gave  of  it  when  he  quitted  it  was,  that,  "  to 
a  sportsman  it  was  the  most  delightful  place  upon  earth  ; 
the  very  centre  and  rendezvous  of  all  pleasures,  and 
whatsoever  is  agreeable  to  mortals — in  truth,  to  him,  an 
earthly  paradise."  There  was,  in  fact,  but  one  circum- 
stance during  the  entire  period  of  his  sojourning  there, 
that  produced  an  unpleasing  reflection,  but  from  the 
relation  of  it  here  some  good  may  arise.  An  unguarded 
expression  from  a  hot-headed  young  Irishman,  but 
possessing  an  equally  warm  heart — the  result,  perhaps, 
of  an  extra  bottle  of  claret,  and  that  the  result  of  a 
brilliant  run  in  the  morning,  which,  in  those  days,  was 
too  often  celebrated  with  Bacchanalian  rites  in  the  evening 
— interrupted  the  harmony  of  a  party  at  which  our  hero 
made  one  :  and,  as  was  likewise  too  often  the  custom  of 


358        THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN 

tliose  days,  for  tlie  honour  of  Tipperary,  an  apology  for 
the  offence  by  the  aggressor  was  declined.  A  meeting, 
then,  was  necessarily  the  consequence ;  and  our  hero, 
having  placed  his  honour  in  the  hands  of  an  officer  of  the 
Guards  with  whom  he  became  intimate  at  Melton,  was 
himself,  the  next  morning,  placed  in  array  to  his 
antagonist  at  the  distance  of  twelve  paces.  On  the  word 
"  Fire  "  being  given,  the  Irishman  fired  in  the  air  ;  and — 
as  was  evident  to  both  seconds — the  pistol  of  his  opponent 
having  been  so  pointed  as  to  render  it  impossible  the  ball 
could  take  effect,  it  was,  of  course,  a  bloodless  affair. 

"  Noiv,  Mr.  Eaby,"  said  the  Irishman,  "  I  am  ready 
to  take  your  hand,  and  declare,  upon  the  honour  of  a 
gentleman,  that  I  regret  having  given  you  offence." 
Anger,  like  the  bee,  says  Seneca,  should  sting  but  once. 
Our  hero  took  his  hand  and  pressed  it,  adding,  emphati- 
cally, these  words  : — 

"My  good  fellow,  let  us  think  no  more  of  what  has 
happened  ;  you  have  done  and  said  all  that  I  could 
desire." 

The  conduct  of  Frank  Eaby  was  highly  approved  of 
on  this  occasion,  having  shown  himself  to  be  a  man  of 
courage,  tempered  with  humanity,  which,  after  all,  is  the 
only  true  courage,^  as  possessing  that  nice  sensibility  of 
honour  which  weighs  the  insult,  rather  than  the  injury  ; 
willing  to  accept  of  the  slightest  atonement  for  either, 
and  totally  incapable  of  revenge.  The  situation,  however, 
in  which  he  had  placed  himself  (for  his  antagonist  was  a 
first-rate  shot),  without  the  effort  to  defend  himself,  and 
of  course  ignorant  of  the  intentions  of  his  opponent, 
became  a  subject  of  admiration  amongst  his  associates  ; 
and  on  the  arrival  of  Hargrave,  a  few  days  afterwards  on 
a  visit  to  him,  the  following  conversation  took  place,  on 
their  road  to  meet  the  hounds  : — 

"I  have  heard  a  good  deal  said,"  observed  Hargrave, 
"on  the  subject  of  your  affair  with  the  Irishman:  the 
Melton  men — at  least  many  of  them — think  you  let  him 
off  too  cheaply  ;  that  is  to  say,  you,  who  were  the 
aggrieved,  ran  the  risk  of  being  punished,  without  the 
chance  of  punishing  the  aggressor." 

"  No  punishment  which  he  could  have  inflicted  upon 
me,"  replied  Frank   Raby,  "would  have  been  equal  to 

1  The  Greeks  used  the  word  Aptry;  to  express  both  what  we  call 
valour  and  virtue. 


THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN        359 

what  I  should  have  suffered  had  I  caused  his  death.  I 
would  not  have  a  man's  blood  lie  at  my  door  for  any 
consideration  whatsoever.  And  as  for  a  wish,  on  my  part, 
to  inflict  punishment  on  Fitzmaurice,  nothing  was  further 
from  my  mind.  He  is  a  good-hearted  fellow — a  man  of 
licence,  indeed,  in  his  words  and  actions ;  and  I  felt  sorry 
afterwards  that  I  took  umbrage  at  what  he  said." 

"  But  would  not  your  honour  have " 

"  Honour  !  "  interrupted  our  hero  ;  "  I  think  there  is 
too  much  stress  laid  upon  this  said  thing  called  honour ; 
it  appears  to  be  the  darling  attribute  of  the  present  age  ; 
but  I  think  it  has  lost  by  its  acquirements.  It  is  a 
picture  of  virtue,  perhaps,  finely  drawn,  but,  in  my 
opinion,  the  lines  are  not  just,  and  the  colours  are  too 
glaring.  These  bloody  maxims  of  honour  were  unknown 
to  the  ancients  in  the  best  of  their  times,  and  why  should 
not  we,  who  boast  of  our  refinement,  be  unable  to  live 
correctly  in  society,  unless  under  fear  of  being  shot,  or 
compelled  to  shoot  others  1 " 

"  Pardon  me,"  replied  Hargrave  ;  "  Antony  challenged 
Augustus  ! " 

"  He  may  have  done  so,"  said  Kaby,  "  but  that  does  not 
prove  the  custom  ;  and  if  it  did,  custom  without  reason 
is  but  an  ancient  error.  I  know  that  there  were  duels 
fought  in  old  times,  as  between  the  Horatii  and  the 
Curatii,  and  others  of  still  more  importance  in  the  eyes 
of  the  world  ;  but  these  duellists  were  public  enemies,  a 
sort  of  fighting  representatives  chosen  to  decide  the 
controversies  of  their  respective  countries ;  there  was  no 
cutting  of  throats  to  decide  private  disputes.  And  as  you 
have  mentioned  the  name  of  Augustus,  what,  may  I  ask, 
was  his  answer  to  Antony  on  being  challenged  by  him 
after  the  battle  of  Actium  ?  Why  that,  if  he  (Antony) 
was  tired  of  life,  there  were  other  ways  of  his  ridding 
himself  of  it,  and  he  (Augustus)  should  not  trouble 
himself  to  be  his  executioner." 

"  A  capital  answer,"  observed  Hargrave. 

"Yes,"  rejoined  our  hero  ;  "and  if  some  man  of  well- 
established  courage  and  conduct,  in  our  day,  were  to 
return  a  similar  one  to  another  who  wished  to  cut  his 
throat  for  a  mere  lapsus  linguce  over  a  bottle  of  wine,  or 
a  hasty  expression  in  the  moment  of  argument,  he  would 
deserve  well  of  society.  Then  look  closer  into  the  system, 
and  observe  the  inconsistency  of  it.     A  man  inflicts  upon 


36o       THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN 

you  the  severest  possible  injury  to  begin  with.  Well, 
you  call  him  out,  as  the  phrase  goes,  and  he  finishes  by 
shooting  you.  Then,  although  public  opinion  may  be  in 
favour  of  this  private  appeal  to  arms,  the  punishment  by 
law  is  equal  towards  the  injured  and  the  injurer  ;  where- 
as, in  strict  justice,  the  latter  is  the  sole  instigator,  if  not 
perpetrator  of  the  crime.  At  all  events,  the  laws  should 
be  lenient  to  the  man  who  accepts  the  challenge,  because 
he  acts  under  an  opinion  of  honourable  self-defence, 
against  the  evil  influence  of  which  the  law  cannot  pro- 
tect him." 

"Then  I  perceive,"  resumed  Hargrave,  "you  are  a 
decided  enemy  to  duelling,  which  I  am,  indeed,  myself, 
and  I  often  think  of  the  question  Fielding  makes 
Partridge  put  to  Tom  Jones  on  the  subject  :  '  Is  not 
courage  forbidden  by  heaven?'  said  Partridge.  'Yes,' 
replied  Jones,  '  but  enjoined  by  the  world.'" 

"  Then,"  said  our  hero,  "  which  is  the  greater  authority 
of  the  two  ?     Heaven  or  the  world  ? " 

"No  question  on  that  point,"  continued  Hargrave. 
"  '  If  it  he  possible,'  says  St.  Paul,  '  as  much  as  lieth  in  you, 
live  peaceably  with  all  men.' " 

"  Yes,"  observed  Raby,  "  and  in  the  next  verse  he  adds 
— '  avenge  not  yourselves  ;  it  is  written,  vengeance  is 
mine.' " 

The  hounds  af)pearing  in  sight,  the  subject  was 
dropped,  and  there  is  good  reason  to  believe  that,  as  this 
was  the  first,  so  was  it  the  last  appearance  of  our  hero  on 
this  stage.  Nemo  debet  bis  vexari  is  not  a  bad  proverb  for 
a  man  to  keep  in  his  pocket ;  but  despicable  as  is  the 
character  of  a  quarrelsome  man,  and  still  more  so  the 
professed  duellist,  there  is  too  much  reason  to  fear  that 
some  young  men  think  it  a  feather  in  their  cap,  with  the 
female  sex  especially,  to  have  fought  a  duel.  It  is  true, 
Virgil  makes  Dido  fall  in  love  with  ^neas,  because  he  is 
a  fighting  man.  There  is  reason  to  believe,  however,  that, 
ere  long,  this  pernicious  rule,  by  which  society  in  the 
upper  classes  has  hitherto  been  governed,  will  be  made 
to  yield  its  sway  to  a  more  rational  tribunal.  This  would 
be  a  reform  worthy  of  an  enlightened  people. 

Two  rather  interesting  incidents  have  been  overlooked 
during  the  sojourn  of  Prank  Raby  at  Melton,  extending, 
as  has  been  observed,  over  a  period  of  nine  years.  The 
first  has  its  origin  in  an  extraordinary  run,  in  which  two 


THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN        361 

celebrated  sportsmen  of  those  times  played  extraordinary- 
parts.  The  fox  broke  from  the  Coplow,  the  hounds 
getting  away  close  at  his  brush,  and  so  straight  did  he  put 
his  head,  that  those  who  did  not  get  well  away  with  them, 
had  no  chance  to  be  near  them,  as  there  was  nothing  to 
be  had  from  a  favourable  turn.  Those,  however,  who  did 
get  away  well,  had  great  difficulty  in  living  with  the  pack, 
and,  dropping  off  one  by  one,  out  of  150  at  starting,  the 
field  soon  became  select.  But  to  what  did  it  come  at 
length  ?  Why,  to  the  presence  of  only  two,  and  even  they 
did  not  quite  see  the  finish  of  this  glorious  run.  And 
there  was  no  deceit  here.  Coming  to  a  momentary  check, 
one  said  to  the  other — 

"  Look  behind  you.  There  is  not  a  living  soul  in 
sight !  "  Nor  was  there.  As  there  were  no  second  horses 
in  those  days,  the  honours  should  be  recorded  to  the  two 
who  thus  distinguished  themselves,  as  well  as  to  their 
owners  who  rode  them.  The  name  of  one  was  the  Clapper, 
ridden  by  Mr.  Ludlow,  of  Bibury,  as  well  as  of  Leicester- 
shire fame ;  the  other  by  Mr.  Smith,  honoured  by 
Napoleon  as  the  grand  chasseur  of  the  day.  And  where 
was  our  hero  in  this  run  ?  He  was  one  of  the  last  lot  of 
five  who  all  pulled  up  in  the  same  large  field,  having  been,, 
up  to  that  time,  brilliantly  carried  by  Topthorn. 

The  second  incident  has  somewhat  of  a  contrary  bearing,, 
inasmuch  as  it  produces  rather  a  rare  instance  of  a  sports- 
man coming  at  once  from  a  very  close  and  confined 
country  into  the  spacious  and  highly-ridged  fields  of 
Leicestershire,  and  distinguishing  both  himself  and  his- 
horse.  This  was  the  Reverend  James  Tomlinson,  of  whom 
we  have  before  spoken  as  having  excited  the  admiration 
of  our  hero  in  Cheshire,  and  whose  performance  on 
the  day  alluded  to  was  the  cause  of  rather  a  curious 
eclair cissement.  Previously,  however,  to  the  climax,  it 
should  be  observed  that,  in  those  days,  no  gentleman, 
except  in  the  Cheshire  Hunt,  was  seen  in  the  hunting-field 
clad  in  leather  breeches.  Thus  clad,  however,  was  Mr. 
Tomlinson,  when  the  fox  broke  from  his  cover,  and, 
moreover,  the  gentleman  was  still  further  disgiiised  by  a 
coloured  silk  neckcloth. 

"  Who  is  the  farmer  going  so  well  on  the  chestnut  ? " 
asked  one. 

"Get  his  price  for  me,"  exclaimed  another.  "He's 
mine,  if  I  give  five  hundred  for  him,"  roared  a  third.     "  A 


362        THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN 

thousand  would  not  purchase  him,"  exclaimed  Frank 
Raby,  who  was  within  hearing  of  the  trio.  "  He  belongs 
to  Jemmy  Tomlinson,  a  friend  of  mine,  in  Cheshire,  and 
he  calls  him  The  Pea." 

At  the  end  of  the  run,  however,  which  "Jemmy"  was 
there  to  see,  one  or  two  of  the  field  who  had  not  heard 
the  explanation  given  by  our  hero,  and,  mistaking  his  rider 
for  a  yeoman,  asked  him  to  put  a  price  on  his  horse.  The 
answer  may  be  anticipated. 

We  are  now  about  to  notice  a  great  change  in  the 
situation  and  circumstances  of  our  hero.  At  tlie  age  of 
thirty-six,  he  lost  his  excellent  father,  who  died  after  a  few 
hours'  illness,  and  before  his  son  could  reach  him,  although, 
of  course,  sent  for  by  express.  To  describe  the  scene  of 
affliction  that  Amstead  Abbey  presented  on  this  melancholy 
occasion,  would  be  productive  of  no  good  to  the  generality 
of  my  readers,  and,  perhaps,  bring  to  the  recollection  of 
some  of  them  hours  of  similar  distress.  The  blow  to  Lady 
Charlotte  was  as  severe  as  it  was  sudden,  requiring  all  the 
energies  of  her  soul  and  body  to  enable  her  to  withstand 
its  force ;  but  forasmuch  as  the  weight  of  human  sorrow, 
like  that  of  human  power,  is  broken  by  being  divided, 
she  was  not  entirely  comfortless.  Her  two  daughters, 
although  married,  happened  to  be  within  easy  reach  of  her 
a,t  the  time  ;  and  the  presence  of  her  son,  of  whom  she 
w^as  justly  proud,  from  the  accounts  she  heard  of  him  from 
all  quarters,  was  balm  to  her  wounded  spirit.  And  we 
will  produce  a  fact  to  show  that  she  had  not  been 
deceived  in  the  representations  of  him,  and  that  he  was 
worthy  of  being  the  representative  of  the  excellent  father 
of  whom  he  had  been  bereaved.  On  the  day  subsequent 
to  the  funeral,  which,  in  addition  to  his  own  dependants, 
Avas  attended  by  the  carriages  of  all  the  neighbouring 
families,  and  what  told  more  for  the  virtues  of  the 
deceased,  by  the  bewailings  of  the  poor  of  the  neighbouring 
villages,  who  had  partaken  of  his  fostering  care  and 
charity  to  an  unusual  degree,  she  received  from  him  the 
following  letter  : — 

"  My  ever  Dear  Mother, — I  should  be  dead  to  the 
common  feelings  of  a  man  did  I  not  sympathize  acutely 
with  the  painful  situation  in  which  you  are  at  this 
moment  placed,  and  still  more  so  to  those  of  a  son,  if  I  did 
not,  to  the  utmost  of  my  power,  endeavour  to  mitigate  the 


THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN        363 

sufferings  of  so  kind  and  excellent  a  mother.  I  know  not 
in  what  manner  I  can  at  this  moment  best  endeavour  to 
contribute  towards  this  much  desired  end,  than  to  assure 
you,  at  once,  of  my  earnest  wish  that  you  should  remain 
at  the  Abbey  so  long  as  you  may  desire  to  do  so,  con- 
sidering all  that  is  within  and  without  it  at  your  entire 
service  ;  and  further,  should  you  find,  at  the  year's  end, 
the  provision  my  lamented  father  has  made  for  you  not 
equal  to  the  expenses  of  keeping  it  up,  the  deficiency  shall 
be  made  good  by  me.  Our  hearts,  I  am  sure,  are  at 
present  too  full  to  discuss  such  subjects  in  person,  which 
is  the  reason  of  my  thus  addressing  you  by  letter  ;  but  let 
me  entreat  you,  for  the  sake  of  my  sisters,  myself,  and 
your  friends,  to  bear  up  with  all  your  might  against  the 
blow  which  has  thus  stricken  you  unawares  and  deprived 
you  of  (I  fear)  all  that  has  hitherto  given  a  relish  to  the 
pursuits  and  pleasures  of  the  greater  part  of  your  life. 
But  be  comforted.  My  reading  has  informed  me  that 
there  are  three  wa^^s  of  bearing  up  against  the  ills  and 
misfortunes  of  life — indifference,  philosophy,  and  religion. 
The  first  forms  no  feature  in  your  character  ;  the  second 
is  a  manly  virtue,  but,  in  the  first  transports  of  affliction, 
of  too  stern  an  aspect  to  gain  admittance  to  a  woman's 
breast ;  it  is  in  the  third  and  last  that  you  will  find  the 
healing  balm,  and  next  to  that  in  the  affection  and 
gratitude  of  your  daughters,  the  esteem  of  your  friends, 
and  in  the  full  assurance  of  the  strict  performance,  not 
only  of  what  is  now  offered  to  you,  but  of  every  act  of  love 
and  duty  on  the  part  of — Your  truly  affectionate  son, 

"  Francis  Eaby. 
"  Amstead,  March  10,  18—." 

It  is  said  by  a  writer  whose  celebrity,  perhaps,  does  no 
great  honour  to  the  feelings  of  human  nature,  that,  let  a 
man  die  amidst  ever  so  many  lamentations,  if  he  could 
rise  again  from  his  grave,  after  the  lapse  of  a  short  period, 
his  reappearance  upon  earth  would  not  be  found  to  be 
productive  of  unmingled  satisfaction  among  his  relations 
and  friends  who  had  wept  over  his  closing  grave.  But 
we  are  happy  to  say  our  hero  was  not  one  of  this  class. 
With  an  income  already  equal  to  all  his  wants,  and  all  his 
wishes  ;  with  health  and  spirits,  which  gave  the  highest 
zest  to  the  enjoyment  of  them,  what  more  could  he  desire  ? 
In  fact,  he  may  be  said  to  have  had  but  one  wish  not  within 


364        THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN 

his  means  to  gratify ;  but,  had  anybody  imagined  tbat  the- 
gratification  of  that  wish,  and  the  life  of  his  excellent 
father,  bore  the  most  distant  approach  to  an  equality  iiL 
his  well-balanced  mind,  he  would  have  found  himself 
egregiously  mistaken.  However,  the  one  thing  having- 
been  snatched  away  from  him  was  no  reason  why  he- 
should  not  avail  himself  of  the  other ;  so,  having  become 
tired  of  his  parliamentary  duties,  for  which  he  did  not 
consider  himself  qualified,  he  resigned  his  seat  at  the  end 
of  the  second  session  ;  but  having,  as  he  thought,  qualified 
himself  by  experience  in  the  field  for  the  principal  office 
of  a  sportsman,  he  unhesitatingly  accepted  of  one  of  the 
best  of  the  midland  countries,  which  became  vacant,  by 
the  resignation  of  a  noble  lord,  in  the  second  year  after  his 
father's  decease. 

The  fine  income  he  was  now  in  the  possession  of  rendered 
pecuniary  assistance  unnecessary,  and  there  was  nothing 
wanting  to  insure  success  to  the  new  undertaking  but — 
what  must  always  operate  against  that  of  all  undertakings 
— the  benefit  of  experience.  Frank  Raby  was  a  sportsman, 
and  in  the  truest  acceptation  of  that  term.  He  loved 
hunting  to  his  very  soul ;  he  had  studied  it  in  its  theory 
as  well  as  in  the  practice  of  it ;  he  understood  it  well  in 
all  that  related  to  the  field  ;  but  he  had  never  been  a 
master  of  hounds,  still  less  their  huntsman.  Like  a 
sensible  man,  then,  he  was  anxious  for  instruction  from 
the  best  source,  and  consequently  wrote  the  following 
letter  to  the  person  whom  he  considered  most  able  to 
furnish  him  with  it : — 

"  Melton  Mowbray,  18 — . 
"  My  Dear  Sir, — I  have  the  following  inducements  to 
impose  a  task  upon  you.  First — the  circumstance  of  your 
pack  having  been  the  one  with  which  I  made  my  start 
in  the  fox-hunting  world  ;  secondly — your  science  and 
experience  in  all  that  relates  to  fox-hunting ;  thirdly — 
your  good-nature  and  kind-heartedness  ;  lastly,  your  zeal 
for  the  welfare  and  credit  of  all  that  relates  to  the  noble 
science.  A  country,  which  you  once  hunted,  is  now 
offered  to  me,  and  I  feel  disposed  to  take  it ;  nor  is  this  all ; 
I  have  flattered  myself  into  the  belief  that  I  can  hunt  a 
pack  of  foxhounds,  and  intend  trying  my  hand  at  it. 
What  think  you  ?  Pray  give  me  a  candid  answer,  and, 
if    favourable  to  my    views,   I    shall  trespass  on  your 


THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN        365 

kindness  for  a  little  advice  and  instruction.  By  following 
your  precepts  in  part,  it  is  possible  I  may  succeed  ;  but,  if 
to  the  full  extent,  there  would  be  little  doubt  of  it. 
Homer,  you  know  (for  you  look  into  books  as  well  as  into 
kennels),  makes  Achilles  a  clever  fellow.  '  No  wonder,' 
says  Eustathius,  'he  had  Chiron  for  his  tutor,  and  a 
goddess  for  his  mother.'  For  myself,  I  cannot  claim  such 
high  origin,  but  I  have  reason  to  hope  that,  te  duce, 
I  may,  sooner  or  later,  fulfil  the  highest  object  of  my 
ambition — that  of  keeping  and  hunting  a  pack  of  foxhounds 
with  credit  to  myself,  and  satisfaction  to  my  field. — 
Believe  me,  dear  Sir,  faithfully  yours, 

"  Francis  Kaby." 

The  answer  to  this  letter,  received  by  return  of  post, 
ran  thus  : — 

"Dear  Kaby, — I  am  always  glad  to  hear  of  young 
men  of  fortune  wishing  to  keep  foxhounds,  and  especially 
when  they  have  been  well  educated  for  the  task,  which  I 
consider  you  to  have  been,  by  not  merely  serving  an 
apprenticeship  at  Melton,  but  by  having  gone  about  the 
country  seeing  all  the  best  establishments,  and,  of  course, 
the  best  huntsmen.  From  reports  that  have  reached  me 
of  your  performance  in  the  field — I  do  not  mean  merely 
riding  to  break  your  neck — I  am  proud  to  acknowledge 
the  compliment  you  pay  me,  of  considering  me  as  your 
tutor,  and  it  will  give  me  much  pleasure  to  ofter  you  the 
result  of  my  experience  as  far  as  the  management  of 
hounds  both  in  the  field  and  in  the  kennel ;  but,  mind 
me,  only  as  a  master  of  hounds  and  a  sportsman.  I  never 
hunted  hounds  in  my  life  ;  it  was  not  the  fashion,  in  early 
days,  for  gentlemen  to  fill  the  office  of  huntsman,  which 
was  left  to  servile  hands,  and  I  do  not  think  that,  all 
things  considered,  the  noble  science  —  as  you  call  fox- 
hunting— has  gained  much  by  the  change.  Gentlemen 
have  so  many  other  pursuits  in  view,  that  I  give  the  pre- 
ference to  the  servant,  who,  we  know,  has  none  other,  and 
is,  on  that  account,  if  a  man  of  talent,  more  likely  to 
succeed.  Besides,  the  situation  of  a  huntsman  is  very 
trying  to  the  temper,  and  your  '  gentleman '  too  often  flies 
out,  where  the  servant  remains  passive.  However,  as  I 
know  you  to  be  a  devilish  good-tempered  fellow,  and,  I 
have  reason  to  believe,  a  thorough  sportsman,  there  is  no 


366       THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN 

harm  in  your  trying  the  experiment  of  hunting  your  own 
hounds  ;  forasmuch  as,  if  it  do  not  succeed,  you  can  but 
fall  back  on  a  substitute.  All  I  will  say  now,  then,  is 
that  I  will  brush  up  my  memory  on  some  points,  and  give 
you  the  result  of  my  reminiscences  and  reflections  at  the 
earliest  period  within  my  power.  In  the  meantime, 
believe  me,  truly  yours, 

"John  Warde. 
"  To  Francis  Raby,  Esq.,  &c.  &c." 

In  about  a  fortnight  after  the  receipt  of  this  friendly 
letter,  our  hero  was  favoured  with  the  following  observa- 
tions from  his  kind  friend  and  preceptor  : — 

"I  must  start  with  your  start.  Do  you  purchase,  or 
get  together  a  pack  of  your  own  ?  I  should  recommend 
the  former  at  a  liberal  price.  It  will  save  you  much 
trouble,  and  be  the  cheapest  plan  in  the  end.  If  you 
collect  a  pack — like  Harlequin's  snuff,  a  pinch  out  of  every 
man's  box — have  nothing  to  do  but  with  kennels  of  the 
highest  character,  for  the  better  the  hounds  are,  the  less 
bad,  of  course,  will  be  the  drafts,  and  vice  versa.  For 
example,  who  would  accept  of  a  hound   drafted  from 

C 's  pack  %    At  all  events,  if  you  determine  on  forming 

a  pack  by  drafts  from  different  kennels,  don't  fail  pur- 
chasing twice  as  many  as  you  may  require,  for,  depend  on 
it,  one  half  of  them  will  be  useless.  Ask  yourself  the 
question — '  Who  would  draft  good  hounds  1 '  You  are  then 
purchasing  faults,  which  you  may  never  again  get  rid  of. 
And  do  not  trust  to  your  eye  ;  I  have  had  hundreds  of 
beautiful  hounds,  in  my  time,  not  worth  one  day's  meal. 
Indeed,  it  sometimes  strikes  me  that,  as  hounds  improve 
in  beauty,  which  they  certainly  do,  they  lose  other  more 
necessary  qualities.  This  is  certainly  the  case,  unless  they 
are  bred  from  the  very  best  blood.  I  conclude  this  part 
of  my  subject,  then,  by  assuring  you  that,  if  you  attempt 
to  form  a  pack  of  foxhounds  yourself,  you  must  not, 
clever  fellow  as  you  are,  expect  'perfection  under  ten  years, 
and  that  makes  a  hole  even  in  a  young  man's  life.  I  can 
only  say  it  cost  me  that  time  to  form  what  I  considered  a 
steady  and  stout  pack.  Some  sorts  prove  vicious,  however 
highly  bred  ;  some  unsound,  some  delicate  ;  and,  foras- 
much as  it  requires  three  years  to  find  out  the  results  of 
any  cross,  how  favourable  soever  may  be  the  expectation 
from  it,  the  breeder  of  hounds  is  too  often,  if  not  working 


THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN        367 

in  the  dark,  involved  in  uncertainties  and  j^erplexities  to 
no  small  amount.  As  is  the  case  with  breeding  horses, 
faults  of  generations  back,  on  one  side  or  the  other,  will 
appear  ;  and  with  hounds,  even  should  the  cross  suit  the 
first  time,  there  is  perplexity  again  ;  the  produce  must  be- 
three  years  old  before  their  real  goodness  can  be  verified  ; 
and  their  sire  must  be  at  least  five  or  six,  as  no  man  would 
breed  from  a  hound  much  under  three  years'  standing  in 
his  work.  Should  the  cross  nick,  however,  spare  no  pains- 
to  continue  it,  if  circumstances  will  enable  you  to  do  so — 
that  is  to  say,  if  the  dog  and  the  bitch  are  within  500  miles-- 
of  each  other. 

"  Now  the  chief  questions  for  your  consideration  are — 
what  constitutes  a  good,  and  what  a  faulty  hound  in  his 
work,  and,  afterwards,  his  shape  and  make.  The  pro- 
perties of  a  good  hound  are  soon  told.  He  does  his  best 
to  find  a  fox  ;  throws  his  tongue  when  he  is  sui'e  he  has 
found  him,  and  not  before  ;  gets  away  quickly  with  the- 
scent  so  along  as  it  is  forward  ;  stops  and  tiirns  quickly 
when  it  is  not  forward  ;  drives  it  to  the  end  without  dwell- 
ing on  it,  or  tiring ;  is  true  to  the  line  without  being  too- 
eager  to  get  to  the  head  and  guide  the  scent ;  sticks  to  his 
fox  when  he  is  sinking  in  a  cover,  let  the  cover  be  ever  sa 
strong,  which  proves  his  perseverance  and  stoutness  ;  quite 
steady  from  riot  in  the  field  ;  not  jealous  in  his  work  ; 
good-tempered  in  the  kennel,  of  a  vigorous  constitution,, 
and  sound  from  head  to  foot. 

"  A  friend  of  mine,  speaking  of  the  merits  of  hounds,, 
has  this  curious  though  not  unreasonable  notion — '  It  may 
appear  paradoxical,'  he  says,  '  but  it  is  nevertheless  true, 
that  the  (query,  one)  proof  of  a  hound's  goodness  is,  that 
he  is  never  remarkable  during  a  run  ;  and  there  are  many 
good  sportsmen  who  would  prefer  a  hound  of  this  nature 
to  one  which  is  oftener  seen  at  head  than  any  of  the  rest. 
Of  course  a  hound  that  is  not  remarkable  is  never  last, 
or  where  he  should  not  be,  but  holds  the  line,  and  is  what 
is  called  by  some,  a  good  line-hunter,  which  is  the  criterion 
of  all  goodness  ;  that  is,  if  he  drives  a  scent,  too,  without 
dwelling  on  it.'  We  may  certainly  call  a  hound  of  this 
description  both  good  and  highly  useful  in  hunting  a  fox: 
to  his  death,  but  we  cannot  call  him  brilliant.  As  Beck- 
ford  says,  'it  is  the  dash  of  the  foxhound  that  dis- 
tinguishes him,  as  it  does  the  hero  in  the  battle.'  Besides, 
this  same  friend  thus  defines  the  line-hunter  : — '  A  hound 


368       THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN 

whicli  will  not  go  a  yard  beyond  the  scent,  and  keeps  tlie 
pack  right.'  Now  if  a  hound,  with  a  superior  nose  and 
steadiness,  were  to  be  conspicuous  at  the  head,  it  strikes 
me  that  he  would  be  more  likely  to  be  efficient  in  driving 
the  scent,  and  guiding  the  pack  right. 

"  Of  the  faults  of  hounds,  if  not  the  worst,  the  most 
provoking  of  any  is  slackness.  It  reminds  you  of  one 
man  taking  a  horse  to  water,  whilst  twenty  cannot  make 
him  drink.  I  had  rather  have  to  do  with  a  wild  hound 
than  a  slack  one.  The  two  most  acknowledged  faults  are 
running  mute  and  skirting.  The  first  culprit  sneaks  away 
with  your  fox,  and  foils  the  ground  for  the  rest  of  the 
pack  should  they  chance  to  get  on  the  line  ;  and  the 
second — although  a  proof  of  intellect,  or  rather,  cunning — 
is  often  the  cause  of  much  mischief,  and  always  spoils  the 
business-like  appearance  of  things,  however  good  as  to 
extent  or  finish  your  run  may  be.  There  are,  also,  what 
are  called  left-handed  hounds — not  exactly  skirters,  but 
apt  to  run  wide  of  the  pack,  perhaps  waiting  for  a  turn  in 
their  favour,  but  leaving  the  rest  of  the  pack  to  do  the 
jprincipal  work  of  the  day.  Keep  none  of  these  sorts,  how- 
ever good  they  may  be  (and  often  are  they  very  good)  in 
other  respects.  Then  in  the  contrary  extreme  to  the  mute 
is  the  noisy  hound,  which  speaks  (as  men  sometimes  speak) 
without  knowing  why,  that  is  to  say,  without  the  scent  of 
a  fox,  and  often  without  any  scent  at  all.  He  is  a  fit 
candidate  for  the  halter,  as  worthless.  I  need  not,  how- 
ever, tell  you,  who  have  so  often  seen  hounds  going  their 
best  pace,  and  over  a  country  which  enables  them  to  hold 
on  that  best  pace  for  a  longer  time  than  most  others,  that 
there  are  times  when  three  parts  of  a  pack  run  mute.  On 
occasions  like  these,  however,  no  fault  is  to  be  found.  It 
is  not  in  the  power  of  a  man  to  run  and  shout  at  the  same 
time  ;  at  least,  he  is  soon  blown  if  he  attempts  it.  Merely 
wild  young  hounds  often  turn  out  well,  with  proper  dis- 
cipline and  work  ;  but  incurable  hare-hunters,  dwellers 
in  the  scent,  especially  in  covers  after  the  body  are  away, 
— those  of  delicate  constitutions,  together  with  the  failings 
before  enumerated,  ought  never  to  be  seen  in  your  kennel ; 
and,  as  these  are  the  sort  of  hounds  that  chiefly  come 
under  the  denomination  of  drafts,  it  shows  the  difficulty 
and  labour,  to  say  nothing  of  the  expense,  of  forming  a 
pack  on  such  a  parent  stock  ;  and,  on  the  other  hand,  the 
value  of  a  really  good  pack,  free  from  such  a  host  of 


THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN        369 

culprits.  Still  I  do  not  mean  to  condemn  the  purchasing 
of  drafted  hounds,  as  I  know  several  packs  that  have  been 
greatly  benefited  by  a  large  draft  from  a  well-established 
kennel — some  of  which  might  have  been  put  away  for 
very  trifling  faults  ;  others  for  the  purpose  of  reducing 
the  establishment ;  and,  now  and  then,  for  the  sake  of 
a  good  price  offered  by  some  wealthier  person  than  the 
breeder.  Let  me  advise  you,  if  you  can  accomplish  it,  to 
secure  the  entire  lot  of  young  hounds,  not  put  forward  in 
some  well-established  kennel.  They  are  often  rejected 
for  a  slight  reason,  and  often  for  no  other  than  that  the 
entry  is  large  enough  without  them. 

"  As  respects  shape  and  make,  I  need  not  say  much  on 
those  points  to  you  who  have  been  in  the  habit  of  seeing 
so  many  good  packs,  nevertheless  you  shall  have  my 
opinion,  as  promised.  I  have  always  been  partial  to 
rather  large  hounds,  provided  they  are  free  from  lumber 
and  well  put  together,  although  I  agree  with  the  dogma 
of  the  great  sportsmen  of  the  day,  that  'the  height  of 
a  hound  has  nothing  to  do  with  his  size,' — I  should 
rather  say  his  power.  I  have  found  large  hounds  suit  all 
countries,  which  small  ones  do  not,  and  they  are  generally 
more  docile  than  small  ones.  But  I  must  have  strength 
and  muscle  combined,  in  proportion  to  size,  with  oblique 
shoulders,  but  no  flat  sides  :  good  loins,  well  let-down 
thighs,  widely-spread  gaskins,  well-put-on  heads,  straight 
legs,  and,  of  course,  good  feet.  I  have  no  objection  to  a 
little  rise  in  the  loins,  approaching  to  what  is  called  the 
wheel-back,  for  hilly  countries,  and  ploughed  ones,  that 
carry  ;  nor  do  I  think  much  the  worse  of  a  hound  if  he 
shows  a  LITTLE  inclination  to  be  what  is  called  throaty. 
I'll  warrant  he  has  a  nose,  but  if  he  cannot  go  the  pace 
the  nose  is  of  no  avail.  I  will,  however,  transcribe  a  few 
lines,  which  I  wrote  some  time  back  for  my  amusement, 
on  the  subject  of  breeding  hounds,  and  other  matters 
important  to  all  owners  of  them  : 

"  The  breeding  a  pack  of  foxhounds  to  a  pitch  bordering 
on  perfection,  is  a  task  of  no  ordinary  difficulty ;  the 
best  proof  of  which  is  to  be  found  in  the  comparatively 
few  sportsmen  who  have  eminently  succeeded  in  it,  and 
whose  blood  is  in  high  esteem  to  this  day.  Not  only 
is  every  good  quality  to  be  regarded  and,  if  possible, 
obtained,  but  every"  fault  or  imperfection  is  to  be 
avoided ;  and  although  the  good  qualities  of  foxhounds 
24 


370       THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN 

are  very  soon  reckoned,  their  faults,  in  shape  and  per- 
formance, present  a  larger  catalogue.  Independently  of 
good  shape,  which  combines  strength  with  beauty,  the 
highest  virtue  in  a  foxhound  is  not  merely  the  exquisite- 
ness  of  his  nose,  but  in  his  being  true  to  the  line  his  game 
has  gone,  and  a  stout  runner  to  the  end  of  the  chase.  But 
he  must  not  only  thus  signalize  himself  in  chase,  he  must 
also  be  a  patient  hunter  with  a  cold  scent,  and  also  with 
the  pack  at  fault.  In  short,  to  be  a  hard  and  stout  runner 
and  a  good  hunter,  and  steady  on  the  line,  which  '  a  good 
hunter'  implies,  constitute  a  j)erfect  hound,  when  com- 
bined with  good  form.  Nose  and  stoutness,  then,  must 
be  principal  objects  in  the  breeder. 

"  The  prevailing  faults  of  hounds,  too  often  innate,  can 
only  be  cured  by  education.  The  greatest  of  all  are, 
skirting,  or  not  being  true  on  the  line,  and  throwing  the 
tongue  improperly  ;  first,  without  a  scent ;  secondly,  not 
throwing  it  at  all,  or  running  mute  ;  and  thirdly,  on  a 
wrong  scent,  which  is  called  running  riot ;  but  the  fault 
of  skirting,  the  greatest  of  all,  is  generally  innate,  and  too 
often  incurable.  Thus  has  the  breeder  of  the  foxhound 
to  guard  against  propensities  as  well  as  faults  ;  and  it  has 
been  justly  observed  that,  of  late  years,  the  system  of 
hunting  is  so  much  improved — so  much  attention  paid  to 
the  condition  of  hounds,  and  their  style  of  working,  that 
a  master  of  hounds  feels  it  as  a  reflection  on  his  judgment 
if  one  hound  in  his  pack  is  detected  in  a  fault. 

"  The  selection  of  dog  and  bitch  to  breed  from  is  a  nice 
point  for  a  master  of  hounds  or  his  huntsman  to  decide 
upon  ;  but  if  he  aim  at  excellence,  he  must  keep  his  eye 
on  perfection.  In  no  animal — not  even  in  the  horse — is 
perfect  symmetry  so  desirable — I  may  say  necessary — as 
in  the  foxhound,  inasmuch  as  without  it  there  is  no 
dependence  on  his  services,  however  good  may  be  his 
nature.  I  will  describe  him,  first,  in  the  words  of  a  very 
old  writer  on  those  sul)jects,  and  afterwards  in  those  of  Mr. 
Beckford,  when  it  will  appear  that  there  is  a  strong  re- 
semblance in  the  portraits  drawn  by  each.  '  His  head,' 
says  the  former,  'ought  to  be  of  middle  proportion,  rather 
long  than  round  ;  his  nostrils  wide  ;  his  ears  large  ;  his 
back  broad  ;  the  fillets  great ;  the  haunches  large  ;  the 
thighs  well  trussed  ;  the  ham  straight  ;  the  tail  big  near 
the  reins,  and  slender  towards  the  end  ;  the  leg  big ;  the 
sole  of  the  foot  dry,  and  formed  like  a  fox's,  with  the 


THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN        371 

claws  great,'  The  latter  says — '  There  are  necessary  points 
in  the  shape  of  a  hound  which  ought  always  to  be  attended 
to  ;  for  if  he  have  not  perfect  symmetry,  he  will  neither 
run  fast  nor  bear  much  work  ;  he  has  much  to  undergo, 
and  should  have  strength  proportioned  to  it.  Let  his  legs 
be  as  straight  as  arrows  ;  his  feet  round,  and  not  too 
large  ;  his  shoulders  back  ;  his  breast  rather  wide  than 
narrow  ;  his  chest  deep  ;  his  back  broad  ;  his  head  small ; 
his  neck  thin  ;  his  tail  thick  and  brushy,  and  if  he  carry 
it  well,  so  much  the  better.'  Now  the  hound  that  would 
answer  to  either  of  these  descriptions  would  disgrace  no 
man's  kennel,  and  one  resembling  the  latter  would  be  an 
ornament  to  it ;  but,  with  regard  to  the  former,  it  must 
be  borne  in  mind  that  it  is  from  the  pen  of  a  sportsman 
who  wrote  a  century  and  a  half  ago,  when  there  is  reason 
to  believe,  no  animal  in  the  form  of  the  foxhound  of  the 
present  day  was  to  be  found  in  this  or  in  any  other  country. 
I  am,  however,  disposed  to  think  that  there  is  much  of  the 
real  character  of  the  foxhound  in  the  description  given  by 
the  older  writer,  such  as  the  long,  rather  than  round,  head  ; 
the  wide  nostrils  (Pliny  says  they  should  be  flat,  solid,  and 
blunt),  and  the  dry,  fox-like  foot.  The  'boned  back' 
appears  to  spoil  all,  unless  it  means  that  gentle  rise  in  the 
loins,  which  many  good  judges  approve  of  for  hilly,  and 
especially  ploughed  countries,  which  '  carry,'  as  the  term 
is,  after  a  slight  frost,  thereby  adding  much  to  the  natural 
weight  of  the  hound.  Beckford  gives  us  the  modern  fox- 
hound, and,  in  my  opinion,  perfect,  with  the  exception  of 
the  mention  of  one  or  two  material  points.  '  His  chest 
should  be  deep,'  he  says, '  and  his  back  broad  ; '  but  he  has 
omitted  a  point  much  thought  of  by  modern  sportsmen, 
namely,  the  hack  ribs,  which  should  also  be  deep,  as  in  a 
strong-bodied  horse,  of  which  we  say,  when  so  formed,  that 
he  has  a  good  '  spur  place,'  a  point  highly  esteemed  in  him. 
Nor  is  either  of  these  writers  sufficiently  descriptive  of  the 
hinder  legs  of  the  hound  ;  for,  although  the  large  haunch 
and  well-trussed  thigh  of  the  former  denote  power  and 
muscle,  there  is  a  length  of  thigh  discernible  in  hounds  of 
first-rate  form,  which,  like  the  well  let-down  hock  of  the 
horse,  gives  them  superiority  of  speed,  and  is  also  a  great 
security  against  laming  themselves  in  leaping  fences,  which 
they  are  more  apt  to  do  when  they  become  blown,  or 
tired,  and,  consequently,  weak.  The  fore-legs,  'straight 
as  arrows,'  is  an  admirable  illustration  of  perfection  in 


372        THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN 

those  parts,  by  Beckford ;  for,  as  in  a  bow  or  bandy-legged 
man,  nothing  is  so  disfiguring  to  a  hound  as  his  having 
his  elbows  out,  and  it  is  also  a  great  check  to  speed.  In 
some  countries,  the  round  cat-like  foot  is  indispensable, 
and  it  is  agreeable  to  the  eye  in  all ;  but  I  would  not 
reject  a  well-shapen  puppy  in  all  other  respects,  for  merely 
somewhat  of  an  open  foot,  provided  his  ankles  or  fetlocks 
were  good,  a  point  I  consider  of  the  greatest  importance 
to  all  quadruped  animals.  The  sboulders  of  the  foxhound 
should,  especially,  resemble  those  of  a  horse — oblique,  but 
at  the  same  time,  strong  ;  for  a  narrow-chested  hound  is 
almost  certain  to  be  shaken  by  hard  work,  and  conse- 
quently, unlikely  to  endure  beyond  his  third  season. 

"As  Beckford  recommends  a  small  head,  it  may  be 
presumed  the  fashion  on  this  point  began  to  be  changed  in 
his  time,  and  has  been  since,  I  think,  carried  to  rather  too 
great  an  excess,  especially  in  one  or  two  kennels  of  high, 
repute,  in  which  small  heads  are  become  one  of  the  leading 
characteristics.  For  my  part,  I  like  some  length  of  head 
in  the  foxhound,  not  being  able  to  divest  myself  of  the 
idea  of  a  cross  with  the  old-fashioned  pointer  when  I  see 
liim  with  a  short  head  and  a  snubbed  nose.  Beckford  also 
says  the  neck  should  be  thin.  I  should  say,  moderately 
thin.  I  dislike  a  thin  neck  in  any  animal  but  a  milch 
cow  and  the  stag ;  at  the  same  time,  I  dislike  a  short, 
thick  neck  in  a  hound.  His  neck  should  be  moderately 
long  and  moderately  thick,  with  the  muscles  clearly 
developed  ;  it  should  rise  gracefully  out  of  his  shoulders, 
with  a  slight  curve,  or  crest,  and,  to  completely  satisfy 
the  eye,  should  be  quite  free  from  the  exuberances  of 
flesh  and  rough,  hair  on  the  lower  side  of  it,  called,  by 
kennel  men,  '  chitterlings,'  or  '  ruffles,'  the  hound  hav- 
ing them  being  termed  throaty.  There  are,  however, 
numerous  exceptions  to  this  rule,  as  some  of  the  best 
hounds  England  ever  saw  have  been  throaty ;  and 
although  I  am  aware  that  one  individual  instance  will 
prove  neither  the  rule  nor  its  exception,  I  can  mention 
Mr.  Meynell's  famous  stallion  hound,  Guzman,  who, 
although  throaty,  was  as  good  a  foxhound  as  ever  man 
hallooed  to,  and  the  sire  of  many  good  ones.  I  agree  with 
Beckford  that  the  stern  of  a  foxhound  should  be  thick 
and  moderately  brushy  ;  and,  if  well  carried,  it  is  a  great 
ornament  to  him  ;  but  there  is  one  part  of  it  which  his 
owner  likes  to  see  nearly  deprived  of  its  covering,  and 


THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN        373 

that  is  its  tip,  which,  when  in  that  state,  is  an  in- 
fallible proof  of  his  being  a  good  and  not  a  slack  drawer 
of  covers,  nor  shy  of  facing  the  strongest  of  them  in 
chase. 

"But  to  return  to  breeding  the  foxhound.  In  the 
breeding  of  some  animals,  beauty  of  shape  is  often 
dependent  on  the  caprice  of  fashion,  or  the  peculiar  taste 
of  the  breeder;  but  in  the  breeding  of  hounds  no  such 
latitude  can  be  given  ;  for  here  beauty,  or  true  symmetry 
of  shape,  is  alone  in  reference  to  utility,  and  adaptatioii  of 
parts  to  the  purposes  to  which  they  are  to  he  applied.  Yet  the 
breeder  of  foxhounds  has  one  point  further  to  go  ;  he 
must,  as  I  have  already  said,  guard  against  propensities 
which  run  in  the  blood  of  those  animals,  perhaps  stronger 
than  their  good  qualities  do,  and  will,  sooner  or  later, 
break  out  in  their  work,  if  they  really  exist.  In  the 
election,  then,  of  a  dog  for  a  bitch,  or  a  bitch  for  a  dog, 
these  matters  must  be  most  attentively  considered  ;  and 
no  man  should  breed  from  hounds  of  either  sex  that  come 
under  any  or  either  of  the  following  denominations,  viz., 
not  of  a  tolerably  docile  sort,  but  very  difficult  to  be  made 
to  enter  to  their  game  ;  or  guilty  of  any  of  the  faults  I 
have  already  enumerated  ;  and,  above  all  things,  if  found 
evidently  deficient  in  nose.  Good  constitution  should 
likewise  be  looked  to  carefully  ;  but  I  would  not  reject  a 
stallion  hound,  or  a  brood  bitch,  merely  for  being  slack 
drawers,  or  for  not  being  always  at  the  head  in  chase, 
provided  they  were  themselves  well  bred,  of  good  form, 
and  true  to  the  line  in  cover  and  out. 

"  As  to  the  proper-  combination  of  form,  that  must  be 
self-evident  to  the  breeder  of  hounds.  If  a  bitch  is  a 
little  high  on  her  legs,  or  light,  she  should  be  put  to  a 
short-legged,  strong  dog,  and,  of  course,  vice  versa  ;  if 
rather  light  in  her  tongue,  that  defect  may  also  be 
remedied  by  an  opposite  property  in  a  dog.  Defects  in 
""egs  and  feet  can  only  be  remedied  by  such  means ;  and 
I3rtunate  is  it  for  the  owner  of  an  otherwise  perfect  and 
e.iccellent  bitch  that  such  remedies  are  at  hand.  Length 
and  shortness  of  frame,  when  in  excess,  as  well  as  coarse 
points,  are  to  be  obviated  and  altered  in  the  same  way, 
making  allowance  for  the  fact,  that  the  laws  of  nature  are 
not  invariable.  Constitution  can  likewise  be  remedied  by 
having  recourse  to  that  which  is  good  (and  none  so  easily 
detected  as  the  dog's),  and  colour  changed,  if  wished  for. 


\ 


374       THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN 

It  is,  in  fact,  the  judicious  cross,  as  Bedford  says,  that 
makes  the  pack  comj^lete  ;  and  it  was  the  remark  of  that 
eminent  sportsman  of  his  day,  that  he  saw  no  reason  why 
the  breeding  of  hounds  may  not  improve  till  improve- 
ment can  go  no  further.  The  question  may  be  asked,  Is 
not  his  prediction  verified  ? 

"  But  the  act  of  crossing  hounds,  as,  indeed,  all  other 
animals,  although  never  thoroughly  divested  of  chance,  is 
one  of  more  difficulty  than  most  people  would  imagine, 
and  one  which,  by  its  results,  would  often  baffle,  if  not 
puzzle,  the  profoundest  of  our  modern  physiologists.  I 
cannot  go  at  length  into  this  intricate  subject,  but  I  have 
reason  to  know  that  great  mistakes  have  been  made  by 
masters  of  foxhounds  in  breeding  too  much  in-and-in 
from  near  affinities,  instead  of  having  recourse  to  an  alien 
cross.  This  was  peculiarly  apparent  in  two  packs  of  long 
standing  which  I  could  name,  which  were  bred  too  much 
in-and-in — one  from  a  favourite  bitch  and  her  produce, 
and  the  other  from  a  dog  hound  and  his  produce.  It  is 
asserted,  and  with  truth,  that  a  pack  of  foxhounds,  to  be 
perfect,  should  have  the  appearance  and  character  of  being 
of  one  family  :  but  this  expression  is  not  to  be  taken  in 
its  literal  construction.  It  is  in  the  conformity  of  their 
character  and  appearance  that  they  should  bear  a  close 
resemblance  to  each  other,  and  not  in  their  close  con- 
sanguinity. In  my  own  kennel,  indeed,  I  have  been  too 
partial  to^  my  own  blood  ;  and  I  reluctantly  admit  that, 
although  I  believe  I  may  say  my  hounds  are  unrivalled 
in  fine  form,  I  may  trace  a  certain  degree  of  slackness  to 
that  cause.  On  the  other  hand,  the  rare  but  valuable 
combination  of  dash  and  nose  which  has  made  the  pack 
of  a  certain  Duke  a  match  for  the  cold  and  somewhat 
ungenial  hills  of  Oxfordshire,  are  to  be  attributed  to  his 
huntsman — one  of  the  best  breeders  of  hounds  of  his  day 
— going  from  home  for  his  blood,  and  sending  his  bitches 
to  the  celebrated  stallion  hounds  of  the  best  kennels 
within  his  reach.  This,  however,  it  must  be  remembered, 
is  not  within  the  command  of  every  man's  purse,  the 
expenses  attendant  on  sending  bitches  to  a  distance, 
under  any  circumstances,  being  heavy  ;  as  they  must  not 
only  be  placed  under  the  care  of  a  trusty  servant,  but 
there  are  other  occult  charges  which  none  but  masters  of 
hounds  are  aware  of.  It  is,  however,  a  notorious  fact, 
that  the  produce  of  some  stallion  hounds,  if  they  have 


THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN        375 

but  a  fair  chance  by  the  bitch,  seldom  fail  in  turning 
out  well,  and  transmitting  their  good  qualities  to  many 
succeeding  generations. 

"  As  to  the  size  of  hounds,  various  arguments  are  made 
use  of  by  the  advocates  of  large  and  small  ones.  Those  of 
the  former  assert,  that  they  get  better  across  a  deep  and 
strongly-fenced  country  than  the  smaller  ones  do  ;  whilst 
the  admirers  of  the  latter  insist  upon  their  being  better 
climbers  of  hills,  more  active  in  cover,  and  quicker  out  of 
it,  when  their  fox  is  gone  ;  and  are  oftener  found  to  be 
more  perfect  in  form  and  shape.  As  to  strict  uniformity 
in  size,  how  pleasing  soever  it  may  be  to  the  eye,  it  is  by 
no  means  essential  to  the  well-doing  of  hounds  in  the 
field,  and  has  been  disregarded  by  some  of  our  first 
sportsmen — the  great  Meynell  for  one,  who  never  drafted 
a  really  good  hound  for  t)eing  over  or  under  the  general 
standard  of  his  kennel.  The  great  object  of  that  eminent 
sportsman — and  such  has  been  mine — was  to  breed  them 
with  muscular  power  and  bone,  combined  with  as  much 
symmetry  as  could  be  obtained  ;  and  to  be  equal  in  speed 
and  good  qualities,  rather  than  equal  in  height.  For 
myself,  I  am  anxious  to  see  my  dog  hounds  rise  to 
twenty-five  inches,  or  more,  and  bitches  from  twenty- 
three  to  twenty-four  ;  but  such  a  standard  is  very  diflicult 
to  maintain  ;  and,  after  all,  perhaps,  it  may  be  said  of 
hounds,  as  has  been  said  of  horses,  that  their  height  has 
little  to  do  with  their  size,  as  far,  at  least,  as  their  powers 
of  action  are  concerned  ;  and  I  believe  that,  in  all  animals 
that  labour,  a  medium  height  is  best. 

"  The  amount  of  hounds  to  be  bred  annually  will 
depend  on  the  average  strength  of  your  kennel,  and  the 
number  of  days'  hunting  in  the  week,  which  the  country 
they  are  intended  for  requires.  From  sixty  to  eighty 
couples  of  working  hounds  are  as  many  as  an}"  man  ought 
to  keep,  being  a  complement  for  at  least  four  days  in  the 
week.  This  will  require  the  breeding  of  as  many  couples 
of  puppies  every  year  to  allow  for  the  usual  diminution 
of  the  entry,  by  malformation,  under  size,  and  that  bane 
to  the  kennel,  the  distemper,  which  often  takes  off  a  third 
of  them.  As  the  period  of  gestation  in  bitches  is  some^ 
what  over  two  calendar  months,  they  should,  if  they  can 
be  spared,  be  put  to  dog  in  January,  as  then  they  will 
litter  in  the  spring,  when  the  weather  is  comparatively 
TN^arm,   and  the    puppies   will  come  early  into  kennel, 


376        THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN 

generally  be  of  good  size  and  powerful,  and  be  entered 
without  loss  of  time. 

"It  is  said  that  the  dog,  in  a  state  of  nature,  is  subject 
to  few  diseases,  and  for  those  he  finds  his  cure  by  an 
instinctive  faculty  :  in  a  domesticated  state  he  is  subject 
to  many,  and  some  of  an  awful  nature,  which  may  be 
classed  amongst  the  opprohria  medicorum,  no  certain 
remedy  being  discovered  for  them.  Amongst  these  is 
one  called  '  distemper,'  not  known  to  our  forefathers,  but, 
at  present,  become  a  sort  of  periodical  disorder  in  kennels 
of  hounds,  to  the  destruction  of  thousands  of  young  ones 
annually.  The  first  symptoms  of  this  disease  are, 
generally,  a  dry  husky  cough,  want  of  appetite,  and 
consequent  loss  of  flesh  ;  extreme  dulness,  and  a  running 
from  the  eyes  and  nose.  As  the  disease  advances,  it  is 
attended  with  distressing  twitchings  of  the  head  and, 
occasionally,  of  the  whole  frame,  while  the  animal  becomes 
very  weak  in  the  loins  and  hinder  extremities,  and  is 
greatly  emaciated  ;  convulsive  fits,  too,  often  close  the 
scene.  For  the  cure  of  this  disorder  I  venture  not  to 
prescribe  ;  there  is  no  specific,  but  the  severity  of  the 
disease  may  be  diminished  by  lowering  the  system  of 
young  hounds  by  gentle  doses  of  salts  when  they  first 
come  into  kennel,  and,  to  a  great  extent,  successfully 
guarded  against  by  very  great  attention  to  their  diet, 
cleanliness,  and  exercise. 

"  With  respect  to  the  age  of  hounds,  few  are  found  in 
a  kennel  after  their  eighth  year,  and  still  fewer  after 
their  ninth  ;  and  not  many  hard-working  hounds  can 
'  run  up,'  or  keep  pace  with  the  rest,  after  their  sixth 
season.  Hounds  are  in  their  prime  in  the  third  and 
fourth  year,  but  there  are  instances,  rare  ones,  of  their 
hunting  in  their  eleventh  and  twelfth.  I  should  place 
the  average  at  four  seasons.  Old  hounds  are  useful 
in  the  field,  but  when  they  cannot  run  up  they  should 
be  drafted.  The  perfection  of  a  pack  consists  in  the 
great  body  of  it  being  composed  of  hounds  quite  in  their 
prime. 

"  I  have  always  been  partial  to  a  good  cry  in  hounds, 
and  listen  to  it  with  feelings  not  confined  to  fox-hunting. 
Sounds,  by  association,  become  the  signs  of  ideas,  and  the 
great  variety  in  the  voice  of  nature  must  have  been  de- 
signed to  meet  the  peculiar  tastes  and  purposes  of  the 
countless  multitudes  that  dwell  on  the  face  of  the  earth. 


THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN        377 

That  the  cry  of  hounds  is  a  voluntary  noise,  proceeding 
from  a  powerful  organic  impulse,  is  quite  apparent,  as  is 
also  the  purpose  for  which  the  impulse  is  given,  namely, 
to  announce  their  having  discovered  the  scent  of  an  animal, 
either  obnoxious  to  their  notice,  or  desirable  as  food  ;  and 
also  by  calling  their  straggling  companions  together  and 
uniting  their  forces,  the  better  to  enable  them  to  secure 
their  prey.  On  the  other  hand,  here  is  mercy  shown 
to  the  prey  they  are  in  pursuit  of.  The  tongue  of  the 
hound  gives  notice  of  his  approach  ;  and  he  does  not 
pounce  upon  his  victim  as  the  silent  greyhound  does, 
which  Gratius,  in  his  poem  on  coursing,  alludes  to  in  the 
following  line  : — 

'Sic  canis  ilia  suos  taciturna  supervenit  hostes.' 

"  But  the  cry  of  hounds,  melodious  and  heart-stirring 
as  it  even  now  is,  has  lost  much  of  its  poetical  interest 
from  the  change  man  has  made  in  the  natural  organization 
of  the  animal  from  which  it  proceeds  ;  and  we  shall  never 
again  hear  of  a  master  of  a  pack,  after  the  manner  of 
Addison's  knight,  returning  a  hound  that  had  been  given 
to  him  as  an  '  excellent  bass,'  whereas  the  note  he  wanted 
was  a 'counter  tenor.'  Beckford,  however,  was  something 
of  the  worthy  knight's  opinion  on  this  point,  for  he  says, 
'  If  we  attended  more  than  we  do  to  the  variety  of  the  notes 
frequently  to  be  met  with  in  the  tongues  of  hounds,  it 
might  add  greatly  to  the  harmony  of  the  pack.'  This  is 
well  in  theory.  The  natural  organization  of  the  dog  is 
musical ;  he  is,  in  fact,  a  victim  to  musical  sensibility, 
and  we  may  reasonably  suppose  that  the  notes  of  his 
companions  in  the  chase  may  be  as  pleasing  to  himself  as 
to  his  huntsman  ;  but  I  do  not  think  a  huntsman  of  this 
day  would  draft  a  highly-bred  and  beautiful  young  bitch, 
as  good  too  as  she  looks  to  be,  merely  because  her  light 
fox-hunting  tongue  might  be  somewhat  drowned,  and  now 
and  then  lost,  in  the  general  chorus  of  the  pack.  He 
would  rather  say,  '  Let  every  tongue  be  to  a  fox,  and  I 
leave  the  rest  to  chance,'  But  on  a  good  day  for  hearing 
it  (there  is  a  wide  difference  in  this  respect),  what  natural 
sound  is  more  delightful  and  animating  than  that  of 
hounds  in  full  cry,  in  the  deep  recesses  of  an  echo-giving 
wood  ?  Neither  would  those  writers  who  have  availed 
themselves  of  the  beauty  and  sublimity  which  allusion  to 
sounds  in  nature  stamp  on  their  various  compositions,  have 


378        THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN 

at  all  descended  from  their  eminence,  if  tliey  had,  like 
Shaksj)eare,  delighted  as  much  in  bringing  the  soul  in 
contact  with  such  a  sound  as  this  as  with  the  rolling  of 
thunder  or  the  howlings  of  the  storm. 

"  The  situation  of  huntsman  to  a  pack  of  foxhounds  is 
one  of  great  responsibility,  and,  if  the  breeding  as  well  as 
hunting  of  them  be  left  to  him,  a  very  arduous  undertaking. 
Kor  does  it  end  here.  There  is  a  great  call  for  judgment 
in  feeding  hounds  to  answer  every  purpose,  such  as  long 
draws,  severe  days,  and,  at  the  same  time,  to  go  the  pace 
without  showing  distress,  and  to  come  home  at  night  with 
their  sterns  up  and  looking  fresh.  Here  variety  of  con- 
stitution increases  the  difficulty  ;  for,  to  satisfy  the  eye, 
hounds  should  look  level  in  their  condition,  as  well  as 
even  in  point  of  size.  One  hound  will  not  bear  to  have 
his  belly  more  than  half  filled  ;  another  will  not  fill  his 
when  he  may  ;  and  still  each  must  be  made  equal  in 
strength  and  wind  to  the  other,  to  stand  hard  work,  and 
go  the  pace  without  showing  distress.  A  huntsman  must 
have  a  very  watchful  eye  over  their  condition,  which  will 
be  affected  by  work  and  weather  ;  and  he  must  be  patho- 
logist enough  to  foresee  and  provide  against  the  alterations 
which  such  circumstances  produce.  He  had  need  also  to 
be  a  physiologist  to  exercise  a  sound  judgment  in  breeding 
his  hounds  after  a  certain  form  and  fashion,  which  are 
absolutely  essential  to  their  doing  well  in  their  work,  and 
at  the  same  time  pleasing  the  eye.  Then  look  at  him 
in  the  field  with  a  hundred  eyes  upon  him,  and  a  hundred 
tongues  to  canvass  all  his  acts  !  Here  he  should  be  a 
philosopher,  and  the  qualities  given  to  him,  by  Beckford, 
at  once  make  him  such.^ 

1  "  '  A  good  huntsman,'  saj-s  Beckford,  '  should  be  young,  strong, 
and  active,  bold  and  enterprising  ;  fond  of  the  diversion,  and  inde- 
fatigable in  the  pursuit  of  it  ;  he  should  be  sensible  and  good- 
tempered  ;  he  ought  also  to  be  sober ;  he  should  be  exact,  civil, 
and  cleanly  ;  he  should  be  a  good  horseman,  and  a  good  groom  ; 
his  voice  should  be  strong  and  clear  ;  and  he  should  have  an  eye  so 
quick  as  to  perceive  which  of  his  hounds  carry  the  scent  when  all 
are  running  ;  and  should  have  so  excellent  an  ear,  as  always  to 
distinguish  the  foremost  hounds  when  he  does  not  see  them.  He 
should  be  quiet,  patient,  and  without  conceit.  He  should  let  his 
hounds  alone  when  they  can  hunt,  and  he  should  have  genius  to 
assist  them  when  they  cannot.'  Perhaps  more  than  this  cannot  be 
expected  from  humanity.  Can  we  give  a  man  higher  qualifications 
than  a  clear  head,  nice  observation,  undaunted  courage,  an  accurate 
ear,  and  a  lynx's  eye,  together  with  a  quick  perception,  endowed 


THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN        379 

"Without  entering  into  the  wide  range  of  hunting,  the 
following  maxims  may  be  observed  with  advantage  by  a 
huntsman  : — 

"  In  drawing  for  your  fox  don't  be  persuaded  ahcays  to 
draw  up  wind.  In  the  first  place,  you  are  in  danger  of 
chopping  your  fox  ;  secondly,  he  is  almost  sure  then  to  go 
down  wind  at  starting ;  and  thirdly,  you  may  drive  him 
into  the  worst  part  of  vour  country,  or  from  his  point.  (I 
am,  of  course,  supposing  your  pack  to  be  quite  steady, 
otherwise  drawing  up  wind  is  more  desirable,  as,  should 
any  riot  be  going  on  down  wind,  the  voice  of  the  huntsman 
will  better  reach  the  offenders.)  "When  found,  get  after 
him  as  quickly  as  possible,  if  you  have  a  body  of  hounds 
with  you,  if  not,  you  will  have  a  better  chance  of  a  run 
if  you  wait  a  little  until  the  body  come  up.     This  is  easily 

with  ready  impulses  for  acting  so  necessary  to  each  ?  That  he 
should  be  fond  of  his  profession  and  indefatigable  in  the  pursuit 
of  it  ;  sober  and  exact,  sensible  and  good-tempered.  It  is  not 
necessary  that  either  a  huntsman  or  a  soldier  should  be  a  man  of 
letters  ;  some  of  the  former  have  been  scarcely  able  to  read,  and 
there  have  been  but  few  Ctesars  who  could  both  fight  and  Avrite  ; 
but  a  good  and  sound  understanding  is  put  to  the  test  both  by  the 
one  and  the  other  ;  and  each  requires,  in  addition  to  such  an 
undertaking,  a  manly  exertion  of  talent.  With  respect  to  gentle- 
men-huntsmen, there  cannot  be  a  doubt  that  no  man  enjoys  hunting 
to  perfection  equally  with  him  who  hunts  his  own  hounds  ;  nor  can 
there  be  any  reason  assigned  why  an  educated  gentleman  should 
not  excel  in  any  ardent  and  highly  scientific  pursuit,  which  huntiug 
is  allowed  to  be,  an  uneducated  ser^-ant.  Nevertheless  it  does  admit 
of  a  doubt  whether,  throughout  the  fox-hunting  world  in  general, 
gentlemen-huntsmen  have  been  so  popular  as  might  have  been 
expected  ;  and  in  a  few  countries  that  have  been  hunted  by  sub- 
scription an  exception  has  been  taken  against  the  master  of  the 
pack  being  the  huntsman.  That  it  is  a  laborious  otfice  when 
efficiently  performed,  both  in  the  kennel  and  the  field,  is  well 
known  to  those  who  have  filled  it ;  but,  labor  ij^se  voluj)tas,  a  pains- 
taking zeal  is  often  displayed  by  the  master,  which  has  been  want- 
ing in  the  servant ;  and  it  was  the  remark  of  a  certain  nobleman 
that,  after  the  first  fox,  his  huntsman  was  more  disposed  to  find  his 
dinner  than  a  second.  In  a  well  known  '  diary '  lately  published, 
a  perfect  huntsman  is  thus  described  :  '  He  should  possess  the 
follo\ving  qualifications  :  health,  memory,  decision,  temper,  and 
patience,  voice  and  sight,  courage  and  spirits,  perseverance  and 
activity,'  which  requisites  a  still  later  writer  on  the  'noble  science' 
seems  to  think  are  oftener  found  in  the  gentleman  than  the 
serv'ant.  The  first-named  writer  pithily  observes,  that,  with  the 
attributes  he  awards  to  him,  a  huntsman  will  soon  make  a  bad 
pack  a  good  one.  If  quick,  he  Mill  make  a  slow  pack  quick  ;  if 
slow,  he  will  make  a  quick  pack  slow." 


38o       THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN 

done,  either  by  horn  or  halloo,  if  hounds  are  under  good 
command,  and  the  convenient  opportunity  is  seized  upon, 
and  a  whipper-in  is  in  his  right  place.  Keep  near  your 
hounds  in  chase,  with  your  eye  on  the  body  of  the  pack, 
as  well  as  on  such  as  may  be  leading  ;  the  body  are  more 
certain  to  be  right.  Next  to  knowing  where  a  fox  is  gone, 
is  knowing  where  he  is  not  gone  ;  therefore  in  your  casts 
always  make  good  the  head.  This  you  will  do  for  your 
satisfaction  ;  but  hounds  are  seldom  at  fault  for  the  scent 
ahead,  when  the  chase  has  been  at  all  warm,  that  is,  on  a 
fair  scenting  day ;  for  if  the  fox  be  gone  forward  wherefore 
the  fault?  Good  hounds  will  seldom  or  never  leave  a 
scent  ahead  unless  the  ground  be  stained  by  sheep  or 
cattle,  or  when  the  chase  leads  over  dry  ploughed  land, 
hard  and  dry  roads,  and  so  forth.  It  is  high  odds  that 
your  fox  has  turned  to  the  right  or  to  the  left  ;  but, 
although  his  point  may  be  back,  he  cannot  well  run  his 
foil  from  the  number  of  horsemen  that  are  generally  in 
the  rear  of  hounds.  Recollect  your  first  check  is  generally 
the  most  fatal  to  sport,  and  for  these  reasons  :  your  hounds 
are  fresh,  and  perhaps  a  little  too  eager  ;  they  may  have 
overrun  the  scent  for  some  distance,  owing  to  having  been 
pressed  upon  by  the  horses,  which  are  also  at  this  time 
fresh  ;  nor  will  they  always  get  their  heads  down  so  soon 
as  they  should  do,  from  the  same  exciting  causes.  Again, 
your  check  now  generally  arises  from  a  short  turn,  the 
fox  having  been  previously  forced  from  a  point  which  he 
now  resolves  to  make  ;  and  he  will  make  it  at  all  hazard 
at  certain  times.  When  your  hounds  first  throw  up,  leave 
them  alone  if  they  can  hunt ;  but,  disregarding  what 
some  of  the  '  old  ones'  say  on  this  subject,  as  inapplicable 
to  these  faster  times,  don't  be  long  before  you  take  hold 
of  them,  and  assist  them,  if  they  cannot.  I  would  not  go 
from  scent  to  view  ;  yet  hounds  that  will  not  bear  lifting 
are  not  worth  having,  for  lifted  they  must  be  over  stain 
of  sheep  or  cattle  ;  for,  as  Beckford  observes,  '  it  is  the 
judicious  encouraging  of  hounds  to  hunt,  when  they 
cannot  run,  and  the  preventing  their  losing  time  by 
hunting  too  much,  that  distinguish  a  good  huntsman  from 
a  bad  one.'  But  do  all  this  quietly  as  well  as  quickly. 
Turn  your  horse's  head  towards  the  line  you  think  your 
fox  is  gone  ;  and  the  first  moment  you  see  all  their  heads 
up,  that  is,  if  they  do  not  hit  him  off,  put  your  horn  to 
your  mouth  for  one  blast  or  two,  and  trot  away  to  still 


THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN        381 

more  likely  points.  If  your  pack  will  divide  when  casting, 
so  much  the  better  ;  iDut  good  hounds  will  be  making 
their  own  cast  to  a  certain  extent,  whilst  you  are  making 
yours,  by  not  keeping  at  your  horse's  heels,  but  spreading 
as  they  go. 

"  When  you  have  hit  upon  his  point,  if  a  single  hound 
goes  off  with  a  good  scent,  get  the  body  to  him  as  quickly 
as  you  can  ;  but  not  so  if  the  scent  be  warm.  In  the  latter 
case,  your  hounds  will  be  in  expectation  of  a  fresh  fox, 
and  will  be  in  a  hurry  ;  the  hound  that  is  forward  will 
be  lifted,  and,  in  all  probability,  you  will  have  to  seek  for 
the  scent  again.  Go  gently,  and  your  hounds,  if  steady, 
will  settle  to  it.  Likewise,  if,  when  at  check,  you  are 
hallooed  to  a  spot  where  a  fox  has  been  viewed,  stand  still, 
and  say  nothing  at  the  moment  the  first  two  or  three 
hounds  throw  their  tongues.  If  you  hurry  the  body  on 
immediately,  the  scent  will  often  be  lost  should  the  fox 
have  been  a  few  minutes  gone.  Again,  when  a  fox  has 
been  viewed,  and  you  go  directly  to  halloo,  do  not  take 
your  hounds  to  the  extreme  distant  point  at  which  he  was 
viewed,  but  about  a  hundred  yards  behind  it,  and  for  this 
reason  :  if  you  take  them  to  the  extreme  point,  and  they 
do  not  hit  off  the  scent  at  once,  you  have  then  to  make 
your  cast  at  a  venture ;  whereas,  if  you  lay  them  on  at 
that  distance  behind  it,  you  have  somewhat  of  a  guide 
to  that  extent,  as  to  the  line  to  which  you  should  draw 
them. 

"  The  following  hints  relate  to  hounds,  either  at  fault, 
or  in  difficulties.  In  trying  back,  hounds  have  this  ad- 
vantage. It  is  evident  the  fox  has  come  the  line  up  to 
the  point  where  the  check  occurred  ;  and  he  must  be  gone 
either  to  the  right  or  the  left  of  it,  or  back.  I  make  this 
remark  because  so  much  has  been  said  about  the  straight 
running  of  foxes,  which  is  far  from  true  ;  and  the  necessity 
of  persevering  in  the  cast  ahead  with  the  fox,  and  back 
on  the  foil  with  the  hare.  The  more  hounds  spread 
within  reason  in  this  backward  cast,  the  better  will  be 
the  chance  of  making  the  cast  a  short  one.  Again,  if  at 
check  on  a  road  or  footpath  (the  latter  not  often  run  over 
by  foxes),  when  you  observe  some  of  your  best  hounds 
failing  to  make  it  good  on  one  side  of  either,  it  is  reason- 
able to  suppose  the  fox  is  gone  on  the  other.  If  your 
hounds  check  in  a  cover  in  the  middle  of  a  run,  and  the 
fox  is  viewed  away  from  it,  try  and  get  your  hounds 


382        THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN 

together  as  mucli  as  you  can  in  the  short  time  that  can 
be  allowed  for  it,  before  you  cap  them  to  the  scent.  It 
generally  insures  a  good  finish  from  two  obvious  causes. 
First,  your  hounds  get  fresh  wind  ;  and,  secondly,  they 
will  have  a  better  chance  to  carry  a  good  head,  which 
generally  insures  blood,  and  blood  well  earned  ;  for  the 
fox  is  more  likely  to  stand  longer  and  go  straighter  for 
not  having  been  viewed  by  hounds  when  he  broke.  But 
the  most  difficult  point  for  a  huntsman  to  decide  upon 
promptly  is,  when  his  pack  divides,  which  lot  is  on  the 
hunted  fox.  If  it  happen  in  cover,  his  ear  is  his  surest 
guide,  as  the  cry  is  louder  and  stronger  on  a  fresh-found 
fox  than  on  one  which  has  been  for  some  time  on  foot. 
If,  when  out  of  cover,  your  pack  should  divide  on  two 
separate  scents,  you  should  get  as  near  as  you  can  to  what 
you  imagine  to  be  the  chase,  giving  view-halloos  every 
yard  you  go,  also  sending  a  wdiipper-in  to  stop  the  other 
hounds.  Your  choice  will  doubtless  be  directed  by  several 
circumstances.  You  will  first  look  for  your  truest  and 
best  line-hunting  hounds,  and  next,  to  the  points  your  first 
fox  would  be  likely  to  make  for  ;  and  if  your  choice  fall 
upon  the  lot  that  are  going  up  the  wind,  the  other  will  be 
more  likely  to  hear  them  running,  and,  should  they  come 
to  a  check,  to  join  cry  again,  perhaps  before  a  whipper-in 
can  get  to  stop  them. 

"  Do  not  be  dispirited  at  a  succession  of  bad  sport,  for 
it  is  not  within  your  control,  good  hounds  and  good  sport 
not  being,  as  has  been  before  observed,  naturally  co-existing 
circumstances.  Be  as  zealous  as  you  please  in  the  field, 
but  temper  your  zeal  with  judgment,  and  do  not  weary 
your  hounds  by  long  draws  on  days  which  bid  defiance 
to  sport.  It  was  once  justly  observed,  that  those  who  seek 
for  pleasure  from  the  chase  must  ask  permission  of  Heaven, 
and  the  case  still  remains  the  same.  Hounds  may  be  im- 
proved in  their  form  and  physical  powers,  but  they  cannot 
hunt  without  scent,  and  without  it  they  resemble  a  man 
trying  to  run  fast  in  the  dark  ;  neither  can  they  make 
head  against  such  fearful  obstructions  ;  and,  on  stormy 
days,  with  ^.  very  high  wind,  you  had  better  go  home 
after  the  first  failure.  It  is  not  generally  known  what 
mischief  even  one  such  unpropitious  day  does  to  some 
hounds.  Do  not  set  too  high  a  value  on  blood,  unless  it 
has  been  well  earned  by  your  hounds  ;  it  is  the  result  of 
want  of  reflection  alone,  that  has  set  any  value  whatever 


THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN        383 

upon  it,  when  otherwise  obtained.  Kill  a  good  fox  when- 
ever you  can  ;  it  will  satisfy  your  hounds,  yourself,  your 
field,  and  the  farmers.  Mob  a  bad  one  in  a  corner  if  you 
like;  neither  he  nor  his  produce  will  show  you  any  sport; 
but  never  dig  out  a  good  one,  unless  your  hounds  have 
almost  viewed  him  into  the  spout  or  drain,  which  he  has 
got  into,  and  you  can  bolt  him  before  the  excitement  of 
your  hounds  subsides.  Never  break  ground  in  a  country 
belonging  to  another  pack  of  hounds,  nor  dig  for  a  fox  in 
a  main  earth  in  your  own.  Many  a  vixen  fox,  heavy  with 
young,  has  been  killed  by  this  means,  in  the  spring,  instead 
of  the  one  that  was  hunted  and  marked  into  it  by  the 
pack  ;  and  be  assured  that  sportsmen  do  not  estimate  the 
goodness  of  a  pack  of  foxhounds  by  the  noses  nailed 
against  their  kennel-door.  Lastly,  keep  your  field  back 
from  pressing  on  your  hounds  in  chase,  and  still  more 
so  when  in  difiiculties,  as  much  as  in  you  lies ;  but  do 
not  suffer  your  zeal  to  carry  you  too  far  on  this  point. 
Remember  the  apostolic  precept — Be  courteous.  Neither 
approach  too  near  the  hounds  yourself,  when  at  fault,  a& 
the  steam  from  even  one  horse  is  perplexing  to  them. 

"  Beckford  says  that,  '  although  it  is  not  necessary  that 
a  huntsman  should  be  a  man  of  letters,  it  is  necessary  that 
he  should  be  a  man  of  understanding.'  This  also  applies 
to  a  whipper-in  ;  and  I  am  bound  to  say,  I  never  saw  a 
steady  pack  of  hounds  without  at  least  one  good  and 
efficient  man  at  this  post  ;  but  I  have  seen  many  of  those 
red-coated  youths,  who  might  have  been  better  employed 
at  the  plough's  tail — who,  after  the  manner  of  Cicero's 
lawyer,  belonged  to  the  profession,  but  not  to  the  science. 
Beckford  assigns  to  him  the  most  important  duties,  and 
leaves  me  but  little  to  add.  I  merely  recommend  him^ 
when  his  huntsman  is  casting  his  hounds,  to  turn  them 
to  him,  when  necessary,  as  gently  as  he  can,  compatible 
with  despatch,  and  with  little  noise ;  by  which  means- 
they  will  draw  towards  him,  trying  for  the  scent  as  they 
go  ;  whereas  loud  and  repeated  rates  and  cracks  of  the 
whip  make  hounds  fiy  to  their  huntsman  at  this  time 
with  their  heads  up.  When  they  are  drawing  properly 
towards  him,  not  another  word  need  be  said  ;  a  whipper- 
in  merely  riding  outside  of  them  will,  or,  at  least,  ought 
to  be  sufficient. 

"  It  is  scarcely  necessary  to  observe  that  a  whipper-in 
to  foxhounds,  to  be  perfect,  should  be  an  accomplished 


384       THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN 

horseman,  as  nothing  requires  a  much  nicer  and  firmer 
hand  than  the  act  of  following  and  overtaking  a  hound 
over  open  ground,  to  flog  him.  A  good  whipper-in,  how- 
ever, M'ill  always  hit  a  hound  first,  and  rate  liim  after- 
wards, and  be  able  to  hit  him  hard  when  occasion  requires 
it.  I  deprecate  the  very  idea  of  wanton  cruelty  towards 
any  animal,  but  a  riotous  foxhound  must  not  be  trifled 
with,  if  he  is  to  be  cured,  without  the  halter,  of  his  evil 
ways  :  let  the  lash,  then,  fall  heavily  when  necessary,  but 
at  no  other  times.  Above  all,  a  whipper-in  must  have  an 
eye  to  skirters ;  skirting  is  the  least  pardonable  fault 
hounds  can  possess,  because  they  are  then  deviating  from 
their  nature,  and  have  not  the  force  of  impulse  to  plead, 
which  those  which  run  riot  after  hares  or  deer  have. 
Great  caution,  however,  is  necessary  in  the  use  of  the  whip 
to  a  young  hound  when  on  a  scent.  He  may  he  right,  in 
which  case  he  may  never  forget  the  check  he  receives,  and 
be  slack  in  his  work  for  the  rest  of  his  life.  As  study 
precedes  practice,  and  fits  us  for  it,  let  me  call  your 
attention  to  the  following  essential  points,  and  remember 
that  we  should  not  be  content  with  mediocrity  when  per- 
fection can  be  obtained: — 

"  You  are  about  to  take  upon  yourself  a  laborious  and 
difficult  task,  that  of  huntsman  to  your  own  pack,  in  a 
country  frequented  by  many  of  the  first  sportsmen  of  the 
day.  I  wish  you  may  acquit  yourself  well  ;  but  recollect 
what  Smollett  says  of  historians — '  that  the  world  has  been 
able  to  produce  but  six  good  ones  ! '  and  it  may  be  said  of 
a  huntsman  that,  in  all  his  operations,  he  has  not  only  to 
exercise  his  mental  faculties  at  every  step  he  goes,  when 
unravelling  the  intricacies  of  the  chase,  but  actually  to 
tread  a  path  nearly  unknown  to  human  reason.  Your 
only  chance  to  shine  is,  by  availing  yourself  of  your 
experience  of  what  you  have  found  to  be  good  in  others  ; 
to  attend  to  the  suggestions  of  superior  judgment  on  points 
on  which  you  are  doubtful  ;  and  to  abandon  all  popular 
but  erroneous  notions  of  the  old  school.  By  doing  this, 
I  doubt  not  but  the  disciple  will  soon  get  beyond  his 
master. 

"I  now  call  your  attention  to  a  few  essential  points. 
Your  kennel  is  a  sound  one  ;  you  need  be  under  no 
apprehension  respecting  kennel  lameness,  about  which  so 
much  has  been  said  and  written,  and  all  to  little  purpose. 
The  whole  secret  is  this — if  the  subsoil  of  the  ground  on 


THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN        385 

which  your  kennel  is  built  is  damp,  your  hounds  will  be 
liable  to  rheumatism,  and  be  lame  ;  and  the  more  porous 
the  soil  is,  the  more  likely  will  it  be  for  the  damp  to 
ascend,  for  which  reason,  sandy  soils,  which  appear  to  be 
the  driest,  because  they  dry  soonest  after  rain,  are  the 
worst  for  the  sites  of  kennels.  Some  attribute  the  malady 
to  several  other  causes,  such  as  washing,  dressing,  &c.  I 
do  not  believe  washing  hounds  has  anything  to  do  with  it ; 
although  it  is  possible  the  injudicious  use  of  sulphur  in 
dressing  or  physicking  may.  Madness  I  hope  you  will 
never  experience.  One  thing,  however,  I  think  you  may 
assure  yourself  of,  namely,  that  your  hounds  will  never 
go  mad  sjjontaneously — that  is  to  say,  unless  from  the  bite 
of  a  rabid  dog.  At  least  such  is  my  opinion  ;  and  it  is 
also  the  opinion  of  several  veterinary  surgeons,  who  are 
now  turning  their  attention  to  the  diseases  of  dogs,  as  well 
as  those  of  horses.  In  case,  then,  of  any  hound  in  your 
pack  being  bitten  by  a  dog  of  whose  state  of  health  you 
are  ignorant,  have  him  separated  from  the  pack  instantly 
on  seeing  anything  unusual  in  his  appearance.  Of  all 
other  diseases,  distemper  excepted,  cleanliness  will  be  the 
best  preventive.     As  Somervile  says — 

*  Much  does  health  ou  cleauhness  depend.' 

"  As  for  distemper,  you  must  take  your  chance  for  that. 
There  appears  to  be  no  specific  as  yet  found  out ;  but 
acting  on  the  prophylactic  system  has  answered  with  me. 
I  give  repeated  mild  doses  of  salts  to  my  young  hounds 
when  they  first  come  up,  and  then,  should  they  take  the 
distemper,  the  disease  is  less  virulent,  and  oftener  yields 
to  those  medicines  which  are  found  to  be  partly  efficacious. 
Physicking  and  bleeding  and  dressing,  after  the  season  is 
concluded — all  of  which  are  essential  to  the  well-doing  of 
your  pack — will  be  attended  to  by  your  kennel  huntsman  ; 
all  }'0u  have  to  do  is,  to  see  that  they  are  properly  per- 
formed. During  the  moving  of  the  coat  is  considered  the 
best  time  to  dress. 

"  Over  accidents  you  have  no  control ;  rest  is  the  best 
doctor  for  strains  of  shoulder,  stifle,  &c.  ;  and  the  sharpest 
astringents  are  to  be  applied  to  wounds  in  the  feet,  to 
which  hounds  are  so  liable  in  their  work.  The  most 
efficient  remedy  for  wounds  was  supposed  to  lie  in  the 
dog's  own  tongue  ;  but  experience  has  proved  it  to  be,  in 
many  cases,  injurious.  Spaying  bitches  is  recommended 
2:; 


386        THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN 

by  many ;  and  it  is  said  that  twenty  couples  of  spayed 
bitches  would  do  the  work  of  twenty-five  or  thirty 
couples  of  open  ones.  Be  it  so  ;  still  I  do  not  recommend 
the  practice  ;  first,  on  account  of  the  severity  and  danger 
of  the  operation ;  secondly,  in  that  it  deprives  the 
animal  of  perpetuating  the  excellent  properties  she  might 
possess.  It  is  altogether  a  barbarous  practice  ;  neither 
should  an  operation  of  a  similar  nature  be  performed  on  a 
dog  hound,  unless  incurably  quarrelsome  in  the  kennel. 

"  Hounds,  like  horses,  must  be  quite  fit  to  go,  or  good 
foxes  will  beat  them.  If  you  are  to  hunt  your  hounds 
yourself,  it  must  be  yourself  that  must  look  to  this  point, 
which  must  be  accomplished  long  before  the  season 
commences.  In  fact,  it  is  by  your  summer  work  that 
your  hounds  will  be  fitted  for  the  winter's  campaign. 
But  here  you  must  dei3end  upon  your  kennel  huntsman, 
inasmuch  as  you  cannot  be  expected  to  be  in  the  saddle  at 
four  o'clock  in  the  morning,  at  which  hour  your  pack 
ought  to  be  out,  during  the  hot  months,  and  occasionally 
kept  out  for  seven  or  eight  hours  at  a  time,  especially 
towards  the  approach  of  cub-hunting.  I  do  not  suppose 
you  will  always  feed  your  hounds  yourself,  neither  do  I 
think  it  absolutely  necessary  ;  but  everything  depends 
upon  how  it  is  done.  Experience  will  convince  you  that, 
whilst  but  few  hounds  in  your  kennel  can  be  allowed  to 
eat  their  fill,  there  are  many  who  must  be  fed  to  a 
mouthful,  and  others  enticed  to  feed,  to  render  them 
quite  fit.  It  is  on  this  account  that,  unless  a  gentleman- 
huntsman  always  feeds  in  the  hunting  season,  he  had 
better  entrust  it  to  other  hands,  guided  by  the  result  of 
his  observation  of  certain  hounds  in  their  work.  If  your 
fixture  is  beyond  ten  or  twelve  miles  from  your  kennel, 
let  your  hounds  (and  horses)  sleep  out.  They  will  be 
fresher  and  stouter  in  their  work  the  following  day,  and 
decidedly  better  in  a  very  sharp  burst  with  their  first  fox, 
as  well  as  having  more  left  in  them  for  a  good  afternoon 
fox,  and  he  generally  proves  a  good  one — that  is  to  say, 
comparatively  with  the  powers  of  his  pursuers. 

"  Get  your  young  hounds  into  kennel  in  good  time  ; 
kennel  food  will  improve  their  shape,  and  they  will  be 
free  from  chances  of  accidents,  as  also  of  acquiring  loose 
habits.  Remember  that  you  will  want  a  large  kennel  of 
working  hounds,  and  do  not  be  in  too  great  a  hurry 
to  draft.      At  all  events,  you  must  put  forward  thirty 


THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN        387 

couples,  which  will  allow  for  the  ravages  of  the  distemper, 
should  it  attack  them,  and  also  admit  of  a  second  draft. 
By  no  means  enter  your  young  liounds  to  hare.  It  is  a 
practice  not  founded  in  reason  ;  on  the  contrary,  it  is, 
by  opposing  the  natural  propensities  of  the  animal,  after 
haviiuj  encouraged  them,  an  unjustifiable  exercise  of  our 
dominion  over  him. 

"You  will,  of  course,  go  through  the  process  of  cub- 
hunting.  On  this  subject  I  have  only  to  observe — begin 
as  soon  as  you  can,  and  follow  it  up  stoutly.  Exclusive  of 
the  necessity  of  entering  and  blooding  your  liounds,  by 
moving  young  foxes,  you  will  make  them  safer  from  the 
fox-takers  ;  and  those  which  may  be  left  in  the  country 
will  fly  when  found  by  your  pack  further  on  in  the  season. 
But  don't  think  too  highly  of  blood  further  on  in  the 
season.  That  it  is  desirable  there  cannot  be  a  question, 
when  obtained  by  fair  means,  and  well-deserved  ;  but 
that  it  is  essential  to  sport,  I  deny.  Weather  admitting 
of  good  scent  is  essential,  if  you  please ;  but  I  can  name 
one  of  the  first  packs  in  England  which  had  the  best  week's 
sport  they  ever  had  since  they  were  a  pack,  after  nine 
days'  hunting,  without  tasting  blood.  Staghounds  rarely 
taste  blood,  and  what  hounds  run  faster,  or  work  harder  ? 

"It  has  been  said  that  a  run  with  foxhounds  should 
resemble  a  successful  battle — that  it  should  be  'sharp, 
short,  and  decisive.'  My  idea  of  a  truly  good  run  is  not 
exactly  this.  I  think  it  should  be  not  less  than  an  hour, 
and  with  at  least  two  checks.  I  mean  to  say,  there  should 
be  difficulties  in  the  course  of  it,  the  overcoming  of  which 
proclaims  the  credit  of  both  hounds  and  huntsman.  I 
would  divide  it  thus  : — I  would  have  twenty-five  minutes, 
best  pace,  with  a  right  good  scent.  Next,  a  check  well 
recovered,  but  not  until  the  hounds  and  horses  had 
recovered  their  wind,  and,  even  then,  I  like  seeing  the 
pack  brought  to  hunting,  but  at  a  fair  pace,  for  about 
fifteen  more  minutes.  I  would  now  wish  to  see  my  fox  well 
hunted  up  to,  and  finish  with  running  into  him  at  the  end 
of  the  remaining  twenty  minutes,  at  very  best  pace.  Runs 
exceeding  an  hour  are  liable  to  two  objections  ;  they  are 
tiresome  to  hounds  and  horses,  and  are  not  what  is  called 
business-like.  For  my  own  part,  I  have  always  seen  more 
satisfaction  expressed  by  my  field,  after  a  very  smart  burst 
of  half  an  hour,  than  at  the  end  of  a  run  which  we  may 
call  a  journey. 


388        THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN 

"  There  are  a  few  difficult  points  in  hunting  hounds,  to 
which  it  may  not  be  amiss  to  call  your  attention.  In 
drawing  covers,  for  example,  you  should  observe  the  parts 
most  likely  to  hold  a  fox  ;  in  fact,  you  should  study  your 
country,  as  well  as  the  science  of  hunting  it.  Foxes  do 
not  generally  prefer  the  most  thick  and  dense  part  of  a 
wood  for  their  kennel ;  on  the  contrary,  they  often  lie 
near  to  the  outside,  and  facing  the  morning  or  evening 
sun,  under  the  rays  of  which  they  much  like  to  bask. 
The  art  of  distinguishing  a  fresh  from  a  beaten  fox,  as 
well  as  having  a  good  eye  to  a  heavy  vixen,  are  requisites 
in  huntsmen,  and  to  be  acquired  only  by  experience. 
The  being  able  to  distinguish  what  is  called  a  moving 
scent — that  is,  the  scent  of  a  disturbed  fox— from  a  drag, 
is  also  to  be  acquired  by  the  same  means — that  said  thing, 
called  '  experience.' 

"  I  like  to  see  a  huntsman  alive  and  stirring,  as  well  as 
his  hounds,  when  he  enters  a  cover  to  draw  for  his  fox. 
Homer  compares  hounds  cheered  by  their  huntsman,  to 
troops  encouraged  by  a  general.  There  certainly  is 
something  very  cheering  to  the  field  in  the  'cheering 
halloo '  of  a  huntsman,  and  it  is  useful  as  well.  Should  a 
hound  get  wide  of  the  pack,  or  hang  behind  in  the  cover  ; 
or  should  any  of  the  field  be  at  a  loss,  which  often  happens 
in  woodlands,  '  the  pipe '  of  the  huntsman  is  an  unerring 
guide  to  all.  How  necessary  is  it,  then — at  all  events, 
how  desirable — that,  like  Ajax,  he  should  be  ^orjv  dya66sy 
renowned  for  strength  of  voice,  and,  we  may  add,  for  the 
melodiousness  of  it.  He  should  likewise  blow  a  horn 
well ;  and  if  he  varies  the  blast,  to  make  himself  more 
intelligible  to  his  hounds,  he  will  find  his  account  in  it. 
I  wonder  why  this  is  not  more  practised  than  it  is.  In- 
dependently of  the  common  recheat,  why  not  have  the 
'view-horn,'  as  well  as  the  'view-halloo?'  Too  much 
horn,  however,  is  to  be  condemned,  having  a  tendency  to 
make  hounds  disregard  it ;  still  a  huntsman  would  be 
sadly  at  a  loss  without  it,  not  only  in  getting  hounds 
away  from  cover  and  in  chase,  but  in  bringing  them  over 
to  him,  when  drawing  large  covers. 

"As  regards  the  use  of  the  voice,  the  following  hints 
may  be  useful  to  you  : — Never  halloo  unless  you  have  a 
good  reason  for  doing  so,  A  constant  and  indiscriminate 
use  of  the  voice  is  blamable  in  a  huntsman,  inasmuch  as 
his  hounds,  by  constantly  hearing  it,  will  pay  but  little 


THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN        389 

attention  to  it.  Hallooing  to  hounds  is  highly  useful 
when  done  with  judgment,  but  it  must  be  done  with 
caution.  Never  cap  your  hounds,  icith  halloos,  to  a  bad 
scent ;  it  makes  them  wild  and  eager,  and  never  should  be 
done  but  when  the  scent  is  good.  Hounds  cannot  be 
brought  up  too  quietly  to  a  cold  scent.  With  respect  to 
your  field  hallooing,  I  have  no  objection  to  a  little  of  that 
under  certain  circumstances.  No  one  should  halloo  if  he 
is  behind  hounds  ;  but  if  a  man,  who  knows  what  hunting 
is,  happens  to  be  well  up  with  the  pack  when  they  are  on 
good  terms  with  their  fox,  a  cheering  halloo  may  do  no 
harm  ;  the  hounds  will  not  attend  to  it,  and  it  is  ex- 
pressive of  the  pleasure  of  the  hallooer.  The  huntsman, 
however,  who  is  endowed  by  nature  with  a  clear,  sonorous 
voice,  in  a  well-pitched  key,  and  knows  how  to  use  it 
with  effect,  contributes  to  the  enthusiasm  of  fox-hunting, 
and,  consequently,  to  the  success  of  it. 

"  Earth- stopping  is  best  done  by  at  once  stopping  all 
main  earths,  having  first  stunk  them  out,  as  the  term  is, 
by  brimstone  matches,  &c.,  so  as  to  prevent  the  chance  of 
having  foxes  stopped  in  them.  It  is  by  the  knowledge  of 
main  earths  to  fox-stealers  that  foxes  are  taken  ;  and  if 
all  main  earths  in  England  and  elsewhere  were  destroyed, 
there  would  be  more  foxes  and  better  runs. 

"  If  one  vixen  fox  can  lay  and  bring  up  her  litter  above 
ground,  why  cannot  another  ?  And  is  it  not  proverbial 
that  what  are  called  stub-bred  foxes  are  generally  stoutest 
runners  ?  In  the  summer,  let  your  w^hippers-in  go  about 
and  discover  the  mouths  of  drains,  and  have  them  staked. 
Iron  gratings  will  be  stolen,  and  stakes  will  last  two 
years. 

"  Although  I  am  of  opinion  that  foxes  do  not  destroy 
game  nearly  to  the  extent  which  is  laid  to  their  charge, 
still,  as  the  preservation  of  it  is  now  become  so  fashionable, 
you  must  open  your  j^urse  to  the  keepers  within  your 
country,  and  a  dinner  to  them,  annually,  with  your 
huntsman  in  the  chair,  will  go  a  great  way  in  procuring 
their  respect  and  good-will.  It  is  stated,  indeed,  on  good 
practical  authority,  that,  by  opening  the  racks  in  covers, 
during  cub-hunting,  and  early  in  the  season,  a  pack  of 
foxhounds  help  to  preserve  game,  by  destroying  the 
facility  of  its  being  snared  in  the  unopened  racks.  A  few 
sovereigns,  thrown  amongst  under-keepers  in  the  course 
of  the  season,  have  a  very  good  effect  in  preventing  blank 


390        THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN 

days.  However,  to  make  assurance  doubly  sure,  when  a 
litter  of  cubs  is  known  to  be  on  dangerous  ground,  let 
them  be  moved,  by  stinking  the  mouth  of  the  earth,  when 
the  vixen  will  carry  them  off.  As  to  purchasing  foxes, 
that  expedient  need  not  be  resorted  to  in  your  country  : 
it  is  a  bad  system  altogether,  the  greater  part  of  them 
being  mangy. 

"  l3raw  your  covers  closely,  especially  those  of  gorse, 
with  which  your  country  abounds.  I  have  seen  foxes  left 
in  them,  frequently,  after  hounds  have  been  drawing  for 
at  least  half  an  hour.  They  lie  very  close  in  such  places, 
and,  even  when  found,  are  often  difficult  to  force  out  of 
them,  by  reason  of  the  ground  becoming  stained,  if  a  ring 
or  two  is  taken.  Be  sure  you  do  not  omit  drawing  your 
outlying  covers  regularly  at  stated  periods  of  the  season, 
and  always  throw  off  near  the  place  fixed.  It  may  not 
matter  to  many  of  your  field  whether  or  not  they  may 
have  to  trot  away  four  or  five  miles  before  you  begin 
drawing ;  but  farmers  and  others,  who  have  very  short 
studs — perhaps  only  one  hunter — are  much  discomfited 
by  it.  A  brother  master  of  hounds  fixes  for  three  weeks 
in  advance,  which  renders  his  hunt  popular  ;  but  it  is  not 
every  country  that  will  admit  of  it. 

"Should  you  have  occasion  to  make  gorse  covers, 
observe  these  hints  from  one  who  has  made  many.  The 
ground  is  all  the  better  for  being  trenched  to  the  dejDth  of 
from  a  foot  to  a  foot  and  a  half ;  and  it  should  be  made 
as  clean  and  in  as  good  condition  as  if  it  were  to  be  the 
seed-bed  of  turnips.  The  seed  should  also  be  minutely 
examined,  as  it  often  fails  from  having  lost  its  germinat- 
ing projDerties  ;  and  it  should  be  drilled  in  the  ground 
and  hoed,  after  the  manner  of  a  turnip  crop.  By  keeping 
it  clean  by  the  hoe,  it  will,  if  the  seed  be  good,  and  the 
land  made  dry,  often  liold  a  fox  in  the  second  year,  but 
will  seldom  fail  in  the  third.  A  brother  master  of  hounds 
recommends  sowing  broom  with  gorse,  but  he  is  wrong,  it 
being  decidedly  inimical  to  scent.  All  artificially  made 
covers  should  be  not  nearer  than  half  a  mile,  at  the  least, 
to  any  house  or  village  ;  and  if  on  a  gently  sloping  bank, 
facing  the  south,  or  south-west,  foxes  will  like  them  the 
better. 

"  Bred  up  as  you  have  been,  it  is  scarcely  necessary  to 
remind  you  of  your  general  conduct  towards  your  field, 
composed,  as  it  will  be,  of  some  of  the  first  sportsmen  in 


THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN        391 

the  world,  as  well  as  others  of  all  descriptions.  The 
management  of  a  field  is  no  easy  task,  and,  in  one  respect, 
resembles  that  of  a  community.  In  reference  to  the 
latter,  a  celebrated  Roman  historian,  Dion  Cassius,  says — 
'The  times  are  bad  when  men  are  not  permitted  to  do 
what  they  please,  and  worse  when  they  are  permitted  to 
do  everything  they  please.'  Thus  it  is  with  men  who 
attend  hounds  ;  they  must  be  kept  within  some  bounds, 
and  in  the  mode  of  doing  it  lies  the  difficulty.  As  *  a  soft 
answer  turneth  away  wrath,'  so,  perhaps,  a  gentle  rebuke 
to  a  too-forward  rider,  at  certain  times,  has  more  effect 
than  a  coarser  expression.  The  more  popular  a  master  of 
foxhounds  is,  the  better  sport  will  he  have,  because  every- 
one will  endeavour  to  promote  it — I  should,  perhaps, 
rather  have  said,  no  one  will  wilfully  mar  it.  As, 
however,  next  to  destroyers  of  foxes,  the  greatest  spoilers 
of  sport  are  hard  but  injudicious  riders,  if  ever  you  have 
occasion  to  address  them,  you  might  avail  yourself  of 
the  following  words,  from  the  pen  of  an  eminent  sports- 
man : — 

" '  A  good  sportsman  will,  as  often  as  possible,  ride 
parallel  with  the  pack,  not  after  them,  unless,  by  short 
turns,  he  is  obliged  to  do  otherwise  ;  by  these  means  he 
can  see  everything  that  is  going  on,  and  anticipate  the 
probable  cause  of  the  hounds  coming  to  a  fault.  For 
example,  a  village,  a  farmhouse,  a  team  at  plough,  men  at 
work,  sheep,  and,  above  all,  cattle,  are  the  things  most 
likely  to  impede  the  scent.  When  any  of  these  objects 
present  themselves  in  the  face  of  hounds,  you  may  then 
anticipate  a  check,  and  by  pulling  up  your  horse,  and 
observing  which  way  the  pack  inclined  before  the  check, 
their  huntsman  will  be  able  to  hold  them  on  in  the  most 
likely  direction  to  hit  off  the  scent  again.'  And  you 
yourself,  as  huntsman,  will  obtain  a  lesson  here.  If 
casting  is  necessary,  you  should  be  directed  by  the  pace 
or  degree  of  scent  which  you  brought  to  the  place  where 
your  hounds  threw  up  ;  for  if  you  came  quickly,  and 
your  hounds  are  not  blown  (be  sure  attend  to  that),  you 
make  a  quick  cast  in  the  direction  towards  which  they 
were  inclining,  by  forming  a  small  circle  first,  and  a 
larger  one  afterwards,  if  you  are  not  successful  with  the 
first ;  but  if  your  hounds  are  blown,  you  should  invariably 
cast  them  very  quietly,  and  hold  them  back,  for  when 
hounds  have  run  hard  for  a  long  way,  they  lose  their 


392        THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN 

noses  for  want  of  wind,  and  run  beyond  the  scent, 
especially  if  there  is  water  in  their  view.  In  a  fair 
country,  and  with  hounds  in  good  condition,  it  is  my 
opinion  that,  if  the  foregoing  observations  are  carried  into 
effect,  few  foxes  would  escape.  Patience  is  a  great  per- 
former in  the  chase.  All  hounds,  in  these  times,  are  well 
enough  bred  ;  and  all  hounds  have  power  enough  (if 
judiciously  handled),  to  kill  a  good  fox. 

"Treat  your  servants  well,  and,  if  you  have  fault  to 
find  with  their  performance,  rebuke  them  mildly  in  the 
field,  and  lecture  them  afterwards  in  private.  The  sub- 
mission of  inferiors  is  not  enough  ;  their  hearts  must  be 
won  ;  and  I  had  rather  witness  human  weakness  than 
human  insensibility  at  any  time,  which  latter  propensity 
every  man  displays  who  wounds  the  feelings  of  a  servant 
on  every  slight  occasion,  and  this  in  the  presence  of  his 
superiors.  As  has  been  beautifully  said,  '  although  a 
servant,  the  spirit  of  a  man  is  in  him  ;  severity  and  rigour 
may  create  fear,  but  can  never  command  regard.' 

"As  regards  the  treatment  of  your  horses,  I  need  not 
say  much,  still  less  instruct  you  how  to  ride  them.  I 
would  recommend  you  to  breed  your  hunters,  and,  after 
the  method  adopted  by  a  friend  of  mine  in  Devonshire, 
have  them  perfected  in  fencing  during  their  colthood.  It 
is  owing  to  the  practice  of  the  young  horses  of  Ireland 
scampering  across  the  country  in  their  colthood,  that  they 
are  such  good  fencers  as  we  find  them,  unless  it  be  at 
timber,  at  which  they  have  no  practice.  But  my  friend's 
plan  is  this :  he  has  every  description  of  fence  in  a 
circular  space  of  ground,  over  which  his  colts  are  driven, 
being  held  by  a  long  cord  by  a  man  standing  on  a  stage 
in  the  centre,  turning  as  they  turn,  by  which  means  they 
cannot  refuse  their  leaps.  Another  eminent  sportsman^ 
goes  a  diftereut  and  perhaps  better  way  to  work.  As 
soon  as  his  colts  are  weaned,  and  turned  in  a  paddock,  a 
slight  fence,  about  the  height  of  their  knees,  is  placed  in 
front  of  the  shed  in  which  they  have  their  corn.  When 
they  are  quite  used  to  walking  over  this,  the  fence  is 
raised  six  inches  or  more,  sufficient  to  make  them  rear 
up,  and  get  their  forelegs  over,  and  they  will  soon  find  it 
easier  to  jump,  than  to  draw  over  their  hind  legs.  When 
they  do  this  freely,  the  fence  is  raised  still  higher,  till 
they  are  obliged  to  make  a  good  standing  leap  over  it 
1  See  "  Diary  of  a  Huutsman." 


THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN        393 

every  time  they  go  into  the  shed  to  he  fed,  &c.  This  last 
should  be  a  single  rail.  When  they  are  perfect  at  this, 
which  they  will  be  in  the  course  of  a  month,  let  a  ditch 
be  digged,'  with  the  earth  thrown  up  for  a  bank,  instead 
of  the  rail,  or  by  the  side  of  it,  which  rail  should  be  made 
higher,  to  prevent  his  preferring  it  to  the  ditch.  They  will 
at  first  walk  into  the  ditch,  then  get  their  forelegs  on 
the  bank,  and  the  hinder  legs  on  the  other  side  of  the 
ditch  ;  but,  in  the  course  of  a  day  or  two,  they  will 
quietly  jump  on  the  bank.  After  being  perfect  in  this, 
another  ditch  is  cut  on  the  other  side  of  the  bank,  and 
they  will  jump  on  and  off,  in  a  few  days,  as  well  as  any 
hunter. 

"  The  same  eminent  sportsman  has  given  a  useful  hint 
on  riding  to  hounds,  which  particularly  applies  to  your 
country.  '  In  the  grass  countries,'  he  says,  '  where  the 
fences  consist  of  live  quicks  and  thorns,  you  will  do  well 
to  notice,  when  a  hedge  is  cut,  which  way  it  is  laid  down 
to  the  top,  and  put  your  horse  at  it  oblic^uely,  with  his 
head  from  the  root  of  the  thorn,  and  the  top  of  the  thorn 
being  weak  will  give  way  to  the  horse's  legs  ;  but  if  he 
goes  straight  against  it,  he  stands  a  good  chance  of  a  fall  ; 
and  if  he  goes  obliquely,  on  the  contrary  plan,  he  reduces 
his  fall  to  a  certainty,  should  the  horse  not  clear  any 
strong  plasher  which  rises  when  the  horse's  knees  are 
under  it,  but  not  so  the  other  way.' 

"Take  the  advice  of  an  old  sportsman,  and  do  not 
trespass  too  far  on  the  willing  powers  of  your  horses. 
Eather  than  insist  upon  their  coming  home,  when  showing 
evident  signs  of  distress,  let  them  remain  at  some  village 
for  the  night,  leaving  a  whipper  -  in  in  attendance. 
Hundreds  of  good  hunters  have  been  destroyed  by  the 
neglect  of  this  mere  act  of  humanity  towards  exhausted 
nature  in  a  noble  and  willing  animal. 

"  On  the  subject  of  scent,  I  shall  say  nothing  at  present. 
Few  subjects  ever  excited  more  speculation,  or  the  exercise 
of  more  reasoning  theory,  than  the  one  in  question  ;  but, 
like  the  peasant  of  the  Alps,  who  looked  abroad  for 
happiness,  we  do  not  appear  to  have  acquired  anything 
satisfactory  by  the  search.  Harsh,  drying  winds,  or  im- 
pending storms,  appear  to  be  the  greatest  obstacles  to 
hounds  working,  but  in  the  face  of  all  other  apparently 
unfavourable  circumstances,  brilliant  runs  have  been 
experienced.     Of  its  fleeting  nature,  perhaps  the   most 


394        THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN 

remarkable  instance  was  related  to  me  by  a  brother 
master  of  hounds,  on  whose  veracity  I  can  depend.  He 
lost  his  fox  at  eleven  o*clock,  a.m.  "  At  two  o'clock,  p.m., 
he  passed  the  place  on  his  road  home,  and  was  told  that 
his  fox  had  passed  a  certain  gateway. 

"'Impossible,'  said  his  huntsman,  'for  we  tried  that 
point.' 

" '  I  saw  him,'  said  a  man  at  plough. 

" '  And  so  did  I,'  added  his  fellow-servant. 

"Sure  enough  the  scent  was  there,  and  spoken  to  by 
half  the  pack,  although  too  weak  to  carry  on  the  chase 
beyond  the  next  field.  After  this,  who  can  speculate  on 
the  certainty  or  uncertainty  of  scent  ? 

"  As  regards  the  strength  of  your  establishment,  it  may 
be  considered  presumptuous  my  dictating  to  you  on  that 
point ;  but  let  me  recommend  you  to  have  an  eye  to 
moderation  in  your  kennel  and  stable.  I  consider'  four 
days  a  week  as  much  as  any  man  should  hunt  hounds, 
and  it  is  also  the  best  arrangement  as  regards  his  kennel, 
inasmuch  as  he  then  divides  it  into  packs  which,  for  the 
most  part,  work  together.  By  thus  becoming  acquainted 
with  each  other,  they  work  steadier  and  better,  and 
occasion  the  death  instead  of  the  loss  of  many  a  stout  fox. 
Seventy  couples  of  good  working  hounds  wiirsuffice  ;  and, 
unless  some  unforeseen,  untoward  circumstances  arise,  you 
will  never  have  occasion  to  add  to  this  amount.  Of  horses 
I  would  allow  you  quite  a  full  complement  ;  first,  on  the 
score  of  your  country,  which  requires  a  strong  stable  ; 
secondly,  because  it  also  requires  that  things  should  be 
done  in  a  first-rate  style.  I  should  say,  then,  that  you 
should  have  fourteen  horses  for  your'  own  riding,  and 
twelve  for  the  use  of  your  whippers-in.  Let  the  latter  be 
horses  of  power,  but  with  sutficient  breeding  for  your 
country  ;  strong  horses  not  only  last  longer  than  slight 
ones,  but  they  are  not  so  liable  to  being  lamed  at  fences 
by  the  superior  strength  of  their  muscles,  and  the  firmer 
texture  of  their  skin.  As  to  the  mixture  or  separation  of 
the  sexes  of  the  hounds  in  the  field,  there  are  so  many 
opinions  on  the  subject,  that  I  scarcely  like  to  hazard 
mine.  There  is  an  objection  against  all  bitches  in  the 
pack  in  a  woodland  country,  in  the  inferior  power  of 
their  tongues  ;  but  that  will  not  operate  with  you ;  and 
it  is  contended  that,  although  quicker  and  readier  in  their 
w^ork  than  dog  hounds,  they  are  not  so  patient  in  difficul- 


THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN        395 

ties.  The  safer  plan,  then,  may  be  to  mix  the  sexes  in  the 
field.  This  will  about  balance  the  account.  I  would, 
however,  advise  you  to  have  more  bitches  than  dogs  in 
your  kennel,  with  a  view  to  future  proceedings." 

We  must  now  bring  this  tale  to  an  end.  Our  hero 
established  himself  as  a  master  of  foxhounds  in  one  of  the 
best  countries  in  England,  hunting  them  himself  with  the 
greatest  satisfaction  to  his  field,  and  being  generally  con- 
sidered one  of  the  most  popular  of  his  class.  Availing 
himself  of  his  own  experience  as  a  sportsman,  and  also  of 
the  suggestions  of  those  who  had  long  preceded  him  in 
his  calling,  he  distinguished  himself  as  a  huntsman  before 
the  closing  of  his  second  season,  and  the  fame  and  reputa- 
tion of  "  Kaby's  hounds  "  fillecl  all  the  houses  and  stables 
in  their  country.  His  private  character,  likewise,  was  in 
no  less  esteem.  Observant  of  all  the  relations  of  social 
life,  he  gained  the  approbation  of  the  good  ;  his  example 
went  far  towards  reclaiming  the  evil  propensities  of  the 
bad  ;  and  in  the  narrower  sphere  of  private  friendship, 
society  cannot  often  produce  a  better  specimen  of  this 
princely  virtue  than  that  exhibited  by  Frank  Raby. 
That  he  never  entered  into  the  married  state  may  excite 
surprise,  but  he  had  more  than  once  been  heard  to  assign 
his  reasons  for  remaining  single.  In  the  first  place,  he 
was  unwilling  to  disturb  his  excellent  mother  in  the  en- 
joyment of  Amstead  Abbey  as  her  home,  and  she  lived 
until  he  had  passed  his  fortieth  year.  Secondly,  although 
he  acknowledged  the  truth  of  the  assertion,  that  the  heart 
of  man  is  like  a  creeping  plant,  which  withers  unless  it 
have  something  round  which  it  can  entwine,  he  had  im- 
bibed the  notion,  and  much  that  he  had  seen  and  heard 
unfortunately  tended  to  confirm  it,  that  a  man  devoted, 
like  himself,  to  the  sports  of  the  field,  was  scarcely  fitted 
for  the  married  state. 

"  Not  one  woman  in  fifty,"  he  would  say,  "  is  a  suitable 
wife  for  such  a  man,  and  that  one  it  might  not  have  been 
my  luck  to  find." 

Then,  although  far  from  being  insensible  to  female 
charms,  he  was  somewhat  mistrustful  of  the  duration  of 
their  power ;  and  the  following  couplet  was  often  on  his 
tongue,  when  matrimony  and  its  joys  became  the  subject 
of  discourse  : 

"Love  may  expire;   the  gay,  the  happy  dream 
May  turn  to  scorn,  indifference,  or  esteem." 


396       THE  LIFE  OF  A  SPORTSMAN 

At  all  events  he  remains  a  bachelor,  and  the  (question 
will  be  asked,  "  Who  is  to  inherit  the  family  estates  at  his 
decease  1 "     This  is  answered  in  a  few  words.     A  younger 
brother  of  his  father's,  not  hitherto  mentioned  in  these 
pages,  has  three  sons,  and  to  the  eldest  of  them  will  the 
entail  be  continued.     But  why  has  he  not  been  mentioned  1 
For  the  simple  reason,  that  his  residence   has  been   in 
India  since  his  twentieth  year,  and  his  reason  for  having 
made  it  such,  was  the  honourable  feeling  that  an  im- 
prudent marriage,  as  regarded  station  in  life,  had,  as  he 
imagined,  rendered  him  somewhat  obnoxious  to  the  rest 
of  his  family.     Imprudent  it  might  have  been,  inasmuch 
as  it  dropped  him  a  degree  in  the  nicely-balanced  general 
scale  of  refined  society,  in  other  words,  to  a  certain  extent 
he  had  lost  caste  ;  unhappy,  it  was  not,  for  a  better  wife 
no  man  possessed,  and  it  is  more  than  probable  that  this 
very  circumstance   may  have  had   some  weight  in  the 
breast  of  his  kind-hearted  nephew,  in  determining  him  to 
continue  in  the  single  state.     At  all  events,  a  bachelor  he 
remains,  and  rather  an  old  one  at  present ;  but  his  house 
is  occasionally  the  resort  of  all  the  best  families  in  the 
neighbourhood  ;  and,  by  his  general  conduct  and  deport- 
ment to  all  classes  of  persons,  he  shows,  beyond  the  power 
of  refutation,  that  it  is  possible  for  a  gentleman  to  devote 
himself,  with  enthusiasm,  to  all  the  sports  of  flood  and 
field,   simultaneously   with   the  performance   of   all  the 
duties  imposed  upon  him,  both  by  God  and  man. 


FINIS 


Printed  hy  Morrison  &  Gibb  Limited,  Edinburgh 


Webster  Family  Library  of  Veterinary  Medicine 

Cummings  School  of  Veterinary  Medicine  at 

Tufts  University 

200  Westboro  Road 

North  Grafton,  MA  01^36 


